Lessons Learned
by enter-a-world-entirely-our-own
Summary: In the midst of war, can people still learn to change? Can they learn to become who they have always been destined to be? Can they learn to love? Draco Malfoy doesn't think so. Hermione Granger begs to differ.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi everyone! So it's been five years since I wrote a fanfic but figured I'd try it out again! I have this entire story planned out so updates will be regular. Right now it's planned to be around 20ish chapters, how long those will be, we shall see! I hope you like it so far, please review, it would make my day!**

 **And to set the story, it is two years after the final battle, with both sides in an almost stalemate.**

* * *

What had once been a lively street full of laughter and the new discovery of magic was now crumbled down to ruins. Nearly all the shops had been boarded up and if there did happen to be people there, they didn't stop to chat. Diagon Alley was not the beautiful place it had once been. Hermione hated going here; it reminded her that the war was still very much alive. At least at Headquarters, she could pretend it was fake for a moment. But staring up at Ollivanders with the glass windows smashed in and the sign hanging by one last chain made this nightmare all too real.

But sometimes a sacrifice had to be made. They needed more moonstone for their potion supplies and the Apothecary was one of the few shops still in business. Most likely because Death Eaters frequented it the most often. She looked down at her reflection in a puddle on the ground and cringed. Polyjuice Potion always made the insides of her stomach squirm. It wasn't natural for someone to look at a reflection and see a stranger staring back. Her usually bushy, brown hair was now sleek and dirty blonde. Icy blue eyes stared out of her regularly warm brown ones. But once again, sacrifices had to be made. It wasn't safe for the best friend of Harry Potter to be wandering around the streets. Not in times like these.

She was just about to push open the door to the shop when a grunt emanated from the alley way. Hermione tore her wand from the inside of her robes and approached cautiously. Two years of war had morphed her into a soldier she hardly recognized. But it had also kept her alive.

"Lumos." The tip of her wand lit up and put the entire situation into a new perspective. Leaning against the ancient brick walls was a man so beat up she wasn't quite sure if he was alive. There were three long gashes down his chest that seeped blood onto his tattered and torn robes. His hair was caked in dried blood and dirt. But his face was the most horrific. Every surface was bruised harshly and one eye was swollen shut. The other was just barely slit open. Hermione felt a scream tear through her lungs but she clamped her mouth shut and forced it back down. It would hardly be beneficial to draw attention to herself. Besides, it wasn't like she hadn't seen something like this before. She shuffled closer to him, "Ex-excuse me?"

He spat blood out of his mouth and lifted his face to look her straight on. "Well isn't this just fucking brilliant." He muttered. "Please just continue on. I'm fine." He attempted to draw his mouth into a smirk, but cringed at the pain it caused and gave up. He then raised his arm and ran a beaten up hand through his hair revealing a shock of white. She knew of only person with hair that distinct.

Her stomach sunk, "Malfoy?"

"Shit." He mumbled before falling onto the ground. Forgetting everything she had ever been trained for, Hermione dropped her fighting stance and rushed to his side.

"What in Merlin's name happened to you?" She moved his head so that she could look into his cool grey eyes. However the one eye that could still see was slowly rolling into the back of his head. She hit the side of his face, "No! C'mon Malfoy." He grunted and then slipped into unconsciousness. Panicking and without any ounce of common sense, the Gryffindor lifted him nearly onto her back and reached for her wand that she had thrown onto the ground. With a crack they had both spun back into the center of Headquarters. "Help!" She cried out before her knees gave out under the weight of the passed out Slytherin. Moody came hobbling into the room.

"Bloody Hell Hermione, who is this?" He growled as he dropped to the floor to assess the passed out man.

"An…old friend." She lied through her teeth. "Please just let Madam Pomfrey see him. He's dying."

Moody's eye grazed over her expression, "You're lying." He murmured. "But I'm not going to let someone bleed out on the floor in front of me." He grasped Draco's hand and levitated him out the door. She followed him hastily and burst into the makeshift infirmary they had created at Grimmauld Place. The plump medi-witch was hunched over the bed of Dean Thomas, who had sustained injuries at their last battle.

"Poppy." Hermione squeaked out, tearing the witch from her healing reverie. "We have a new patient for you."

She caught sight of Draco being levitated through the door way and gasped. "Oh dear…well bring him here." Moody plopped him onto one of the beds and Poppy set her wand onto him. Hermione stood behind her, chewing on her bottom lip furiously.

After nearly twenty minutes of complex wand movements and mumbling, Madam Pomfrey stood from her patient and lifted the corner of her mouth. "He's stabilized…for now. I'm going to wait for a couple hours before continuing. He needs to rest."

"Hey 'Mione" Ron Weasley walked into the room while biting into an apple. "What's this of a new arrival? Mad-Eye was just telling me and Hannah about it." His eyes set onto the wizard sleeping on the bed in front of him and he dropped the apple to the ground. Draco's hair was now clean and shining out its white color for all to see.

"Now what was the name of the patient Hermione?" Madam Pomfrey walked in between the two friends, seemingly not able to feel the tension. "I have to put it down in the records."

"D-Draco Malfoy." She whispered. Madam Pomfrey squeaked in surprise. Ron gave a scathing glare at his friend before stalking out of the room.

"Ron wait!" Hermione ran after him and grabbed his arm, "I couldn't just leave him there to die!"

"And why the Hell not Hermione? It's Draco fucking Malfoy! He's the reason Dumbledore is dead! He helped Yaxley murder Seamus and I'm sure he was in on the Creevy's murders! He's made fun of you since you were eleven years old and he's been a right git since he was born! Why not let him die?" A few people poked their heads out of their doors at the sound of Ron's yells, but the ginger wizard was oblivious to the noise he was making.

"Maybe because he's a _human being_!" She spat, "Maybe I wanted to be the better person and I couldn't just watch someone die like you could. Maybe I still have a bloody heart Ronald! If you want him dead so badly, why don't you just go back in there and strangle him! If everyone else is like you in this prison, I'm sure they won't protest!" She turned from him and stomped up the stairs before slamming her door shut and locking it. Ron let out a sigh.

"Sweetheart…what was that about?" Hannah Abbott poked her head around the corner.

He felt the corner of his lip rise, "nothing…Hermione is just being…Hermione." He followed his girlfriend into her room and momentarily forgot about the pale man in the building.

* * *

He heard sounds before he opened his eyes. He was in a mildly uncomfortable cot and someone was bustling around the room. What the hell happened? With great effort, Draco Malfoy lifted his eyelids and looked around. Nothing was recognizable and his entire body ached. He felt a cough rumble up through his body and when it left him; he thought his throat may crumble. Madame Pomfrey turned her head to the source of the noise and smiled hesitantly.

"Oh good, you're up." He felt his eyebrows crease in confusion. What the fuck was going on? "Do you remember anything Mister Malfoy?" The medi-witch approached cautiously.

"Does it look like I remember anything?" He grunted, annoyed.

"What is the last thing you remember?"

Draco racked his brain. He was on the ground and endless pain was coursing through his veins. Voldemort was laughing in the background as Draco screamed in agony on the cold stone floor. He had apparated away in a panic and hazily remembered Diagon Alley and a blonde woman. That was it. "Nothing." He spat. "Where the hell am I?"

Poppy sighed, "You're at the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix."

The Slytherin's silver eyes widened, "And how the fuck did I get here?" Madame Pomfrey opened her mouth to respond but was cut off by someone walking in the door.

"Hey Poppy have you got any more healing cream? Harry was trying a new defensive spell and it didn't go very well." Hermione was looking down at her cuticles, completely oblivious to the current situation. She looked up quickly and then did a double take. "Oh…I'll just…I'll just get some cream later-"

"Oh no Hermione! You're not getting off that easily." Poppy stood and dragged the reluctant witch over to a scowling Draco. "This, Mister Malfoy, is how you got here." Hermione bit her bottom lip and avoided the blonde's vicious glare.

"What is the meaning of this Granger?" He ground out. At first she avoided his gaze but then determination and a hint of anger swept over her face and she stared him dead on.

"The meaning of this is that I saved your life Malfoy, I could have just left you there to die. Merlin knows you were seconds from it." There was a slight flush in her cheeks that highlighted her blazing eyes.

"No," his jaw set, "I remember a blonde woman."

"It's called Polyjuice Potion," she rolled her eyes, "Surely your precious master has taught you about it?"

His eyes flashed, "Shut the fuck up Mudblood." He felt a pang of regret deep within his abdomen but forced his face to remain emotionless.

Hermione scoffed, "You know that word barely even affects me any longer. It was a nice try Malfoy. When you decide to stop being an ungrateful bastard, let me know." She turned from him and stalked out of the room before slamming the door shut. As soon as the old, withered wooden door had separated them, the Gryffindor felt her chest ache and almost unconsciously ran her hand over the foul word forever etched into her skin. She felt tears spring to her eyes but forced them back, she would not cry over a word. She would not allow something to have such control over her.

"'Mione?" Harry tore her from her thoughts, "Are you okay?" He was holding his bloody arm, causing Hermione to realize that she had completely forgotten to get him his healing cream.

"Oh Harry! I'm so sorry; I'll go get the cream from Poppy right now." She turned back towards the door with dread seeping through her veins. Harry put his good arm around her shoulders.

"It's alright, I'll get it." He moved to open the door but Hermione pulled him back.

"He's awake." She mumbled.

"I was wondering when our _guest_ would wake up…it's been three days." He tried pushing past her but was once again blocked.

"Please don't Harry, he's being a huge twat right now."

"Cause he was always such an angel." The dark haired wizard slipped out of Hermione's grasp and burst into the room. There on the first cot was Draco Malfoy, looking infuriated.

"Potter." He spat.

"Malfoy." Harry answered calmly before walking right past the cot and to the medicine cabinet. Draco sat and shot daggers through the back of Harry's head until he turned around with the healing cream in his hand. He was careful to not meet Draco's gaze and instead became particularly interested in rubbing the cream onto his arm. Hermione stood by the door biting on her lip in anxiety.

"Why the fuck am I here Potter?" He growled, "surely you would know what really happened."

Harry lifted his head slowly and looked on to Draco with pity, "Look at the witch standing in the doorway. That's why you're here Malfoy. Because someone had compassion. So for once just stop being a spoiled git and be thankful you're actually alive. Cause Merlin knows if any other person in the Order had found you, we wouldn't have made a second glance." Draco clenched his jaw in anger but produced no response, allowing Harry to scuffle out of the room sighing. Hermione looked back at Draco with her chocolate eyes, opening her mouth to say one last remark. She shut it quickly though and shook her head in defeat before following her friend out of the room.

* * *

"Right so what are we going to do about our new…guest?" Harry sat in the middle of the meeting table, casting anxious glances at every face.

"Get his bloody arse out of here!" Ron burst out. Hermione shot him a glare that could kill from across the table but said nothing.

"He's staying." Moody grunted.

"What?!" Ron, Dean, and Neville all screeched together. Hermione's head whipped up to meet Moody's scarred expression.

"We're going to figure out why he was so beat up when Hermione found him and then we're going to use him to our benefit. I figure if we get a good occlumens down to Headquarters, we could get a few worthwhile things out of him."

"That's not going to work." Harry was grasping the bridge of his nose. "I reckon Snape taught him before he died and now Voldemort has taught him everything he knows. No one is going to be getting into Draco Malfoy's head anytime soon."

Moody grunted, "I reckon you're right Potter…can't believe I didn't think of it myself. Well we could always get our hands on some Veritaserum. I believe Malfoy was one of the top Death Eaters. We could get some extremely useful information out of him."

"Maybe Theo should speak with him." Luna spoke up. "He's sleeping right now but I could go ask him."

"I doubt your useless boyfriend could be of any help." Ron snarled.

"Ronald!" Mrs. Weasley whacked her son on the back of his head while she set down some tea.

"He has been nothing but nice to you" Luna stated in an airy voice.

"He's a rotten git." Ron mumbled while Hannah's arms went around his middle, trying to offer comfort.

"Oh shut up Ron, you're just angry because Theo can outsmart you in every conversation the two of you have." Ginny mocked from her seat next to Harry. Hermione smirked at her friends' comment but still kept her lips sealed.

"You know Scallyfangs are known to brighten one's mind in conversation," Luna looked in Ron's general direction as she began to smile, "I could catch some for you and they would surely help." Dean and Padma roared with laughter at the end of the table, though Luna didn't seem to realize what was so funny.

"Will all of you shut up?!" Moody barked from the head of the table. "I knew I should have asked senior members to sit on in this meeting." He whispered under his breath. "Malfoy stays until further notice. If it turns out he is of no help to us, then Hermione will erase his memories and he will be set out on his way."

"I'm not touching _anyone's_ memories." Hermione spoke for the first time, with wavering strength behind her voice.

"You can do it 'Mione" Neville tried patting her back but she moved away from his touch.

"No. You of all people should understand Neville! We all know what happens when I mess with people's heads. No need to be kind and bead around the bush." She pushed out her chair causing it to screech against the ancient wooden floor. "Do what you want with Malfoy. I'm sorry I ever brought him here. But I am not, under _any_ circumstances messing with his memories." She slammed the door behind her and left the meeting in a shocked silence.

"Meetings over." Harry stood while still holding Ginny's hand. "And no one bother Hermione. That's an order." Everyone quickly began filing out of the room until it was only Harry and Moody left. "How could you even begin to think she would be ok with that?" Harry spat.

"It's been two years."

Harry let a cold, humorless laugh burst up from his lungs. "You're a great fighter Mad-Eye, but you have always had a lack for understanding people's emotions." He turned on his heel and went to go find his best friend.

* * *

Every bone in his body ached. His eyelids felt as though weights had been attached to them. The door of the infirmary opened to reveal a smirking Theo Nott.

"What the fuck do you want?" Draco snarled. He was too tired and sore to pull his face into any sort of emotion, so he settled with a glare.

"Just wanted to check in on my dear old friend." The fellow Slytherin strutted up to Draco's bed and began drawing a useless pattern with his fingertips on the bed post.

"Don't make me laugh; you left the Dark Lord right after the Final Battle. You left all of us"

"If you haven't noticed, it was far from the 'final' battle mate. I've been in twenty since then."

"You know exactly what I meant Nott."

Theo pulled his eyebrows together, "So I'm Nott now? How times change." He let out a low breath and turned his gaze back down to the invisible pattern he was drawing.

"It became Nott the moment you became a filthy traitor!" A growl escaped Draco's throat causing him to cough painfully.

Theo raised his head quickly and the pattern stopped, "I'm the traitor? How about you Malfoy? How many of your own have you killed? How many crimes against humanity have you witnessed?" He scoffed, "I thank Merlin I got out of that bloody mess. You're never safe on his side. After all isn't he the one that did this to you?" He gestured to the broken body in front of him while Draco seethed silently.

"At least I'm fighting for what I believe in!"

Theo let out a cold laugh, "We both know you don't believe in that shite anymore. You just got in too fucking far to admit it."

"Why the hell are you here? To give me a fortune cookie speech and tell me what a fuck up I am? If that's all you want, then just get the fuck out."

"I wanted to see if you came here asking for help," He rubbed the back of his neck, "I thought my best friend had finally seen the light. But I was wrong." He tousled his dark brown hair and looked on to Draco with pity. "I won't bother you again." He then turned from the bed and left the room without turning back.

It could have been hours or days until Draco was disturbed again. He wasn't sure. Mad-Eye came stumbling into the room grumbling under his breath.

"You're going to the interrogation room." He whacked the bed with his cane, "Get up!"

"I'm pretty comfy thanks."

Moody rolled both eyes and yanked Draco's arm, "Enough with the sarcasm, get out of bed and come with me!" Draco grunted with pain and ripped his arm out of the aurors grasp. He followed at a slow pace through the house, biting down on his tongue to keep from moaning in pain. After what felt like miles of hallways, they reached a door and Draco was pushed inside.

There was a single chair facing a desk in the middle of the room. On the left wall there was a couch where the Golden Trio were all sitting. Ron flipped him off, Harry became suddenly very interested in the floor, and Hermione did nothing but stare. Her big brown eyes had absolutely no emotion running through them. For kicks Draco tried to cast a wandless legilimens on her and was met by a solid wall. A corner of the witch's mouth turned up in a smirk, but she otherwise gave no sign that her mind had just been attacked.

"Hello Mr. Malfoy." Draco had been so distracted by his former school mates that he hadn't even noticed Kingsley Shacklebolt sitting in a chair behind the desk. "We're going to be administering some Veritaserum today, if you'd like to have a seat."

The liquid felt like silk as it slid down his throat. Draco felt the effects reach out to the tips of his fingers and he bit down on his tongue in a last attempt to keep from revealing his secrets.

"Now," said Kingsley, "We're just going to be asking you a few questions." He paused as though he expected a response from the Death Eater, but only received a glare. "Our first matter of business, what is your full name and rank?"

He tasted the blood in his mouth as he bit down on his tongue with every muscle in his face. The Veritaserum shot up from his fingertips to his jaw, forcing it to open and words to tumble out. "Draco Lucius Malfoy, Death Eater from the Inner Circle." Out of the corner of his stormy eyes, he caught Ron's angry stare.

"And how did you end up in the care of Miss Granger?" Kingsley was staring at the desk but his voice held strong.

"I was being punished by the Dark Lord and for some strange reason; I felt the wards go down. In a panic, I apparated away. I could tell I was near death."

"And why were you being punished?"

The Slytherin managed to lock his jaw for nearly three minutes before the words stumbled out of his pursed lips. "I refused to rape a muggle."

Hermione gasped and Kingsley's eyebrows shot up his forehead.

"I presume you had no plan to be found by the Order?"

"None whatsoever." His voice was ice that set the room down a few degrees.

"Well then." Kingsley cleared his throat, "Can you tell us where the Dark Lord is hiding?"

"No." Draco spat, "He never revealed to us where his main hiding place was. The only time I saw him was for a mission or if he visited the Manor."

"And were you at the Manor when you were punished?"

"Yes."

"And you have no idea how the wards went down?"

"I already fucking said I didn't know." The blonde had officially lost the last ounce of his temper.

"Very well…Alastor, if you could escort Mr. Malfoy back to the medicine room, we're done for today. Thank you for your cooperation Malfoy."

"Not like I had much of a bloody choice." He grumbled before being grabbed at by the collar and shoved out of the interrogation room and down the hallway. He passed Theo on his way up the stairs and had to suppress the urge to stick his foot out and trip the bastard. That would be the perfect excuse for the hobbling auror behind him to 'ruff him up a bit' to use Moody's exact phrasing.

"Malfoy," Theo spoke up, "How are you doing today?"

Draco rolled his eyes. Was this wanker serious? "Oh just fucking brilliant dear Theo. It's been such a lovely stay." Moody grunted and shoved him up the last few steps and away from Theo before the turncoat could reply. He was pushed into the room with all of the hospital beds and the door was slammed and locked behind him. A Crucio from the Dark lord sounded pretty damn good right about now.

* * *

 **So I hope everyone likes it so far! I'm really excited about this fic, but please please leave reviews! I cannot put into words how much they mean and it helps me to know if people are liking where I'm going with things. Thanks!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Here's Chapter 2! Once again, please please review! I'm trying to update this story quickly, so it would mean a ton if I could get some feedback! Thanks! And as always, I don't own anything, it's all J.K. Rowling's.**

* * *

Draco woke in the makeshift infirmary with a raw throat from his futile attempts to hold back the Veritaserum from the night before. Before he could look away from the ceiling he heard the door crack open. Harry strolled in, holding a plate with toast and a banana on top of it.

"I've brought you some food, Malfoy. We aren't quite sure what to do about your unexpected…visit. It's being discussed tonight, but we figured you may be hungry." Harry held out the plate. Draco's jaw set in a determined raged.

"Thanks saint Potter, but I'm just peachy. Really enjoying my time here, 5 stars."

"Look Malfoy, we're trying to be polite here. The least you could do is accept some food. You haven't eaten since you woke up." Harrys eyes roamed over Draco's already slight figure that was now diminished from lack of food.

"Eye's up here Potter." Draco smirked as Harry rolled his eyes. He set down the plate of food on the table next to the infirmary bed.

"I don't know why I bother." He shook his head and turned for the door, "You would have died if it hadn't been for Hermione and Madam Pomfrey. The least you could do is show your gratitude and eat to sustain the life you would have lost. Someone will be up to let you know what we plan to do with you." The door shut behind Harry and Draco eyed the plate hungrily. For fucks sakes he was starving, but he wasn't about to let Golden Boy know it – much less anyone else in this dump of a headquarters. With a weak and shaking hand he reached out for the toast, someone had set two small dishes of jam next to it. Something told him it wasn't Potter's idea to do the food. Something told him a certain over-righteous bushy-haired Gryffindor downstairs cared about people more than was for her own good.

* * *

"We can't let him stay here longer." Ron roared over the arguments at the meeting table, "We got what we need from him! Throw him back out on the street!"

"We can't just throw him out there, he could have overheard something while staying here, and he's seen the inside of the headquarters, the minute Hermione brought him back here she allowed him to become a secret-keeper for Grimmauld Place. We throw him out, we expose ourselves and lose our best headquarters." Kingsley's deep voice boomed over the chatter of the room, silencing all other opinions.

"We can start a new headquarters, I'm sure Bill and Fleur would be willing to open up their home." Fred Weasley looked hopeful next to his twin brother. Both had closed their joke shop a year ago after a particularly bad attack that had killed Angelina and left Fred a more serious man.

"That isn't fair to ask of them, they have Victoire to worry about," Ginny looked sympathetically at Hermione who had receive more than a few glares during the meeting, "Hermione brought us a tool to use in this war. I'm sure there is more we can get out of the slippery git."

Harry rubbed the bridge of his nose, "What so we hold him here as prisoner? Does that make us any better than them?"

Theo let out a dark laugh, "Trust me mate, we're a fair few amount of steps above them. Keep in mind who we had to save him from in the first place."

" _We_ didn't do anything," Padma began angrily, "Someone just _had_ to be the hero."

Hermione looked up from the table indignantly, "I am done with this," Her chair squeaked loudly on the floor as she stood up, "I have apologized more than enough for this situation. I'm through apologizing for having an ounce of humanity left. I'm finished explaining why I chose to save a life instead of end it." She turned to go but Harry grabbed her arm.

"You're right Hermione, you shouldn't have to apologize." He looked earnestly into her eyes, "but you are more intelligent than half of this room put together and while you shouldn't have to apologize, we do need your help figuring out a solution to this." He silently pleaded with her while the rest of the Order stared at two-thirds of the golden trio.

Ron spoke up softly, "What if we kept him here, not as a prisoner? He could just be kept to one room" Hermione turned surprised to look at her friends sudden change of heart, of all the people in the room, she did not expect Ron to be offering solutions that kept Malfoy alive.

"Since when are you for helping Malfoy?" Hermione's face twisted into confusion as Ron stepped towards her.

"I'm not, but I'm also not for blaming one of my best friends for having the compassion most of us in this room have lost. I hate the ferret, despise actually, but I'm not dumb. He's already here, we can't send him back out and I don't think anyone wants to commit murder," The room solemnly shook their heads, although Mad-Eye didn't look too opposed, "so, why not just keep him here?"

Harry looked thoughtful as he glanced over to Kingsley, "It could work."

"It could," Kingsley looked like a man who had lived thirty years in only two, "we will need to set up wards to keep him here. As of now, he does not have a wand but we do not know his full power and once his strength is back he may be able to disapparate."

Ginny spoke up, "We could keep him in a room, someone can bring him food and water. And we can continue to question him."

"So we're back to keeping him as prisoner." Luna's voice drifted dreamily over the room, but her face was hard and cold.

"No, I specifically said not as a prisoner." Ron jumped on the defense.

"Just because you say something does not make it so." Luna replied curtly.

"We can make the room nice and comfortable, he won't be questioned in any way that hurts him, and I'll bring him food and water," Hermione's voice trembled, "I'll make sure it isn't a prison."

"'Mione you don – "

"Yes Harry, I do. No one else will be kind enough to deal with the complete arse that is Draco Malfoy. And I'm quite good at holding my temper if need be." She sighed, "Besides, it's my mess to clean up. I am not sorry for saving him, but I am sorry for compromising everyone else in order to do it. I'll take care of him."

"We'll pick a room and set the wards tonight, he can be moved once he's fully healed." Kingsley's tone of finality dismissed the meeting, with a chatter of disagreement still humming.

* * *

Two weeks passed without much more argumentation regarding the newest resident of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Hermione brought food to the infirmary every day, three times a day, to a mostly silent and angry Draco Malfoy. She did not attempt to make conversation, and he was not about to ask how her day was going or even mention the weather.

He was finally beginning to feel as though his body hadn't just been hit by a train and then stomped on by a giant. In fact, the only thing considerably bothering him was the nearly persistent burning of his dark mark. Voldemort had not been able to find one of his best lieutenants for three weeks now, and he was making it known. His arm burned almost every hour of the day, his master constantly trying to call him back to duty. After the circumstances of his departure however, he wasn't entirely angry he could not rush back.

At the end of the third week since he'd been rescued, he was surprised to be greeted by Theo bringing his breakfast instead of the stoic brunette he'd grown accustomed to.

"I heard you're just about all healed up."

"So nice of you to notice dear Theo. You're a true friend." Draco bit back.

Theo set down the bowl of porridge on the side table and sat down in the bed next to Draco. "We're going to be moving you to a nicer room later today, I helped set it up myself." He looked down at his feet before continuing, "Extra wards have been set up so that you can't disapparate away, but it's very comfortable, and Granger will continue to bring you food and everything. They still want to question you, it'd be a lot easier if you cooperated Draco –"

"Oh goody thank you so much I just cannot wait to move prisons from one room to the next, truly you lot are oh so thoughtful." Draco rolled his eyes and twisted to grab the porridge, "and I think I'll pass on the cooperation, you see I'm not exactly eager for this little golden side to win the war."

"That's a lie and we both fucking know it Draco, you're for whatever side ends this mess faster." Draco stayed silent as he ate his breakfast. Theo wasn't exactly wrong, Draco was tired of the war, but he was also more eager for the side to win that wouldn't be attempting to lock him up in Azkaban. That whole Slytherin survival trait ran deep in his blood.

After a full minute of silence Draco spoke, "I'm for whatever side ensures my survival Nott. And in case you haven't noticed, this side isn't exactly my biggest fan. They won't even allow me to keep my wand."

"You killed the Creevey brothers, who were their friends, did you think they were going to let you keep something that would allow you to do more damage?"

"What and they haven't killed friends of mine? Haven't battled against members of my own family? Do you get cold up there on your high horse Nott? There aren't innocent members of a war, the sooner you glory children realize that, the better you may be able to do in your battles."

Theo's eyebrows drew worry across his forehead, "We try our best to refrain from killing in battles – "

"Tell that to the one eyed freak downstairs. Goyle visits his fathers grave every day, a grave your precious friend put him in."

Theo puffed out his chest and rose from the bed, "Oh cause you're so fucking innocent Draco."

"I never said I was innocent, I'll admit to the crimes I've committed. But for fucks sakes it is annoying when none of you will. I'm done with this conversation Nott, please do be so kind to let me know when I get to move to my new, refurbished prison cell." Draco rolled over to face away from Theo and raised the blanket to cover his trademark hair. Theo stomped out of the room and slammed the door while Draco smirked; he always was good at knowing exactly what buttons to push.

Hermione came in less than an hour later, "We're going to be moving you to your room Malfoy. Theo was supposed to be helping but the bastard is nowhere to be found." Draco didn't have to turn around to hear the resentment in her voice.

"Am I allowed to walk there or are you going to put me in chains Granger? Please do say it's the second option, I always knew you had a kinky side." Her eyes widened as a furious blush overtook her cheeks. Draco chuckled darkly, "Oh calm down Granger, you Gryffindors are horrible at taking jokes I swear." She mumbled what he was almost sure to be an insult under her breath and opened the infirmary door wider.

"Well, after you Malfoy. Just maybe I'll refrain from the chains." A corner of her mouth lifted in the slightest grin as she met his gaze. He certainly wasn't expecting a clever retort from her. He stretched before moving towards the door, noticing the way her entire body tensed as he neared her. She had grown since he'd last seen her, come into her own with her hair falling in waves framing her face. She still stood nearly a foot below him, but she now looked like more of a woman than a girl. A tired woman, but a woman all the same.

"Are you going to lead the way or do I get free reign of the house?" His voice seemed to have broken her out of her thoughts because she quickly shook her head and lifted her eyes to meet his.

"Follow me, we're going two floors up. Neville and Dean are going to be behind you on the staircase. I hope you don't find that too insulting." Her tone of voice suggested she didn't give a rats ass what Draco found insulting, but he smiled anyways.

"On the contrary, I'm flattered you lot think me impressive enough to break out of a military headquarters without my weapon of choice. I mean I guess I could have thrown my leftover porridge in someone's face, but that would be a weak head start, don't you think?" Hermione remained silent as she climbed the stairs but he could have sworn he saw a slight smile as she rounded the corner stair.

They reached the top floor and she went past two doors before opening what he assumed to be his. "Theo helped me set this up, there's a bathroom behind that door in the corner and we picked a room with a window. I'll still be bringing all your meals at the same times. If I have to go out on a mission or battle, it'll be Theo bringing them." She opened the door to his room wider and stepped back into the hallway with Neville and Dean, "I'll let you settle in."

Hermione knocked on the all-too familiar door for the third time that day. It'd been five days since Malfoy moved into his new room and she was already tired of playing mother to the giant toddler behind the door.

"What?" He barked from the other side. She sighed and mustered every ounce of her patience before turning the knob.

"Here's your dinner." She set down the plate at the table they'd put in his room. Honestly she didn't know why he insisted on complaining so much, this was pretty damn nice room if she did say so herself. She and Theo had worked on it for an entire week before Malfoy moved in.

"See you tomorrow Granger." The blonde was sitting on his bed staring at the ceiling.

"What, no snide or sarcastic remark today? It's a pity, you're already losing your touch Malfoy."

"I can promise that if you wanted to, you'd find that my touch is more than capable" He looked away from the ceiling as his silver eyes roamed over her body. Hermione looked away and crossed her arms over her chest. "Oh for fucks sakes Granger calm down, I'm kidding. Who knew two years into this war and you're still as prude as your Hogwarts days?"

"Whatever Malfoy, I don't have time for this. I will see you tomorrow." She slammed the door shut behind her and ran straight into Theo.

"Oh don't tell me he's already learned how to get to you?" Theo stood towering over her, smiling softly, "You can't let him intimidate you love, it's his specialty."

"He's not intimidating, he's infuriating!" Hermione spat, "It's as if he's so bored he just sits there all day thinking of ridiculous comments to throw my way the moment I enter the room.

"Well to be fair, he probably is ridiculously bored. We didn't give him much to do in there."

"Well then order some board games or teach him to play Poker I don't care, I'm sick of this." Hermione huffed as confusion overtook Theo's sharp features.

"Poker?"

She rolled her eyes, "it's a muggle game. Forget it, I'll see you in the morning, I'm going to sleep."

Theo watched her march down the stairs before knocking on Draco's door and then turning the knob. "Back so soon Granger?" Malfoy hadn't looked away from the ceiling.

"Not quite, but can I say, you look positively thrilled to be here Draco." Theo smiled as he closed the door.

"What the fuck do you want Nott?"

"Hermione mentioned you've been bored, I wanted to see if there's something I can do about that."

"Oh good are you going to install a circus in my room? Elephants and all? Really Theo haven't you heard of animal cruelty laws? And you call yourselves the light side."

"Oh for christs sakes Draco enough with the witty remarks, I'm trying to help you here."

"No. You're appeasing your guilt. What would have helped me is if you hadn't turned into a bloody turncoat. It would have helped me to have my best friend remain with the Death Eaters. It would have helped me if you'd been there when I was cast into the inner circle. Trying to find some measly entertainment does not help me. I needed your help two years ago, but I do not need your help or your pity now. Get the fuck out of my room Nott." Draco walked towards his window to look out at a darkly lit London street. The room fell silent and had Draco not been trained for years by one of the most powerful wizards in history, he would have assumed Theo had left. But beneath steady silence of the old carpet and hum of conversation four floors below, he could hear Theo's even breaths.

"How about the library? I can get your room connected to the library, it's right next to you, it won't be hard."

Draco wrapped his hand around his arm, where the mark still burned, "fine."

* * *

"Now Mr. Malfoy, we can do this an easier way, if you'd just cooperate with us." Draco looked around the room he'd been taken to. Precious Potter and the girl Weasley sat in the back, with an anxious Hermione sitting next to them.

"I think we all know I'm not going to do this any easy way, so please just get this shite over with." He heard Hermione sigh sadly behind him. He really didn't understand what she'd been expecting.

The Veritaserum snaked its way down his throat, and he felt its effects stretch out towards his fingertips.

"What is your name?" Kingsley sat at the desk in front of him, waiting expectantly.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy." He rolled his eyes and glanced back at his miniature audience. "Inner circle Death Eater who was in Slytherin. Just so we can get those little clarifications out of the way once again."

"Where is Voldemort staying?"

"Oh are you kidding me? Is this going to be a monthly thing where you all somehow hope I suddenly acquire knowledge from my dusty room? I don't know. I didn't know a month ago. I don't know now."

Kingsley's eyes darkened in anger but he did not comment on Draco's attitude. "When did you become a member of the inner circle?"

The blonde tried desperately to keep his lips shut. His face turned red with the effort and once the words slipped out, they were barely audible, "two months after the Battle of Hogwarts."

"Did Voldemort know you worked with Harry Potter to escape the Room of Requirement to survive that battle?"

"No." Draco snarled.

"And if he had?"

"I'd be dead." The words felt like knives diving into Hermione's stomach. She gasped quietly and looked to Harry who had the same shock written on his face.

Kingsley continued on, "Even though you were only trying to survive?"

"Do you know the Dark Lord to be an understanding man?" Cool grey eyes met Kingsley's kind black ones. The answer was plain as day without Draco ever having to speak the words. He'd kept a secret from Voldemort. And he'd been able to make it into the inner circle with that secret intact. That was no ordinary feat, even for an accomplished legilimens.

"What did you have to do in order to join the inner circle?" Draco's entire body tensed. He dug his nails into his thighs to keep his mouth from opening. Nearly five minutes of silence passed before he spoke, "I killed a turncoat."

"Who?"

"Seamus Finnegan. It was discovered he was a spy. I was ordered to torture him for information and then to kill him."

"Finnegan's mother received his arm branded with the dark mark in the mail before being murdered herself, was that you as well?"

Draco looked down at the floor, "yes."

Hermione swiftly got up to leave to room, slamming the door behind her. Draco turned to watch her back disappear before being brought back to attention by Kingsley, "that'll be all for today. Thank you Mr. Malfoy."

"Oh it's always just such a pleasure." He stood to leave the room and found Hermione at the other side of the door.

"Ginny and I will escort you back to your room." She was shaking and refused to meet his eyes. A part of him felt guilty, he knew what it meant to lose a friend and he wouldn't wish it on his worst enemy, even Granger.

"Granger," He began.

"Don't." She interrupted softly. "Fourth floor, second door on the left. Ginny and I will be behind you."

They climbed the stairs in silence, Ginny looking warily between her companions. When they reached his room, Hermione silently closed the door behind him and he heard their retreating footsteps. Didn't they understand he didn't have a fucking choice? It wasn't like he got off on murdering or some shite, it was kill or be killed. Rage boiled inside of his gut, he picked up the bowl that had held his dinner and threw it against the wall, watching it shatter into pieces. On the wall, next to slight mark the bowl had left, was a door that he could have sworn wasn't there when he'd left to be interrogated. Upon opening it, he discovered a room with bookshelves stretching all the way to the ceiling. An old and dusty couch was flanked by two large armchairs. Maybe he'd cut back on the snide comments the next time he saw Nott. Maybe.

* * *

 **I hope everyone likes this chapter! It's a lot of dialogue but that's my favorite thing to write! Anyways please please review, it'll make my day! Thanks!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi everyone! Here is chapter 3! Sorry it took longer than the second did, I wanted to make sure I liked where it ended. Also, I don't have a beta or anything so I apologize in advance for typo's or errors! Please please review, they absolutely make my day and make me want to write more! As always, everything belongs to JKR (:**

* * *

For two weeks, Draco lived in peace. He was the sole inhabitant of the library, and the Veritaserum remained in its bottle. His only constant acquaintance was the burning on his arm and the meetings with Granger when she brought him his meals. He had to admit; they had gotten considerably nicer as his stay extended into the lazy days of mid-August.

On a particularly rainy day, Draco was startled from the book he was reading by the creak of the door leading to the hallway. He looked up to find none other than Granger. She had spoken less than three words to him per day since his last interrogation session. She did not indulge in his witty comments and within five to six days of the radio silence, he had given up. She looked startled to have found him in the library, which he truly did not understand, seeing as he'd spent most of his time in the comforting room over the past few days. He had been woken by nightmares from his last moments in the presence of The Dark Lord for the past four nights in a row. His mind still couldn't understand why he'd been able to escape and he prayed one of the many books would supply and answer.

"I forgot Theo connected your room to the library." She mumbled without meeting his gaze. Her long lashes fanned out over the freckles that still dusted her cheeks. Everything about the witch's posture suggested anxiety, from her turned-in shoulders to the way her arms were tensed, especially the one holding her wand.

"I'm not going to bite you, in case you're thinking of anti-venom jinxes at the moment."

Her eyes opened wide in confusion as she finally looked at his face. What had always been an angular jawline had now grown into sharp edges that framed a perfectly straight nose and blazing grey eyes. Hermione hated to admit it, but Draco had grown into himself in all the best ways. She noted the slight growth of facial hair sprinkled around his chin and cheekbones and tried to mentally remind herself to bring him a razor the next time she brought him his meals.

"Who said you were going to bite me?"

"Well your wand hand and the anger painted across your face seems to be suggesting it. Does it comfort you to know I only bite if requested?" An amused eyebrow snaked its way up his forehead while a blush burned on her cheeks.

"Well excuse me if I'm not eager to let my guard down around the man who brutally murdered one of my oldest friends and his mother." Her eyes were fire, kindled by the rage overtaking her posture – anxiety be damned, she was livid.

He let out a long, almost anguished sigh. "Granger. I didn't have a choice. You know that right? You understand that I physically did not have a fucking choice?"

"You always have a choice."

"No!" He spat and stood from his spot in the furthest armchair, "no you do not always have a god damned choice! Not when you're in the constant presence of a psychopath whose favorite hobby is murdering people. Not when you have had to watch every member of your family be tortured, watch friends die and turn their backs on you, watch innocent lives be taken solely because good ol' Voldy had a bad fucking day. You do not always have a choice and if you – and every other person in this idiotic headquarters - could get off your high fucking horse that'd be grand because I am tired of the judgment from someone who has never once had to weigh the options between five hours of torture or painlessly killing an innocent muggle." In his anger he had strode closer to the Gryffindor who was holding her wand, looking ready to pounce.

"You could have left."

"Yeah and be skinned alive? Have every bone in my body broken three times before I'm awarded death? Abandon my family who would be ruthlessly punished for their bloods' betrayal? Great suggestion Granger, why didn't I think of that earlier?" He rolled his eyes and stepped back to his chair to sit once more, "Besides, I'm not some golden hero. I don't give a shit how this ends up so long as I make it out on the other side. I wasn't worth saving in the first place, you should have left me in that alley. Would have been easier for everyone involved."

Despair washed over her features at his final statement. He hated to admit it, but it twisted his gut to see her looking this upset. He hadn't meant to throw a pity party but hell, it'd been a pitiful few years. And something about the warmth that eluded from her made him feel as though he could say a few more things that he usually did, be more honest than he usually trusted himself to be. After all, she had saved his life and been bringing him meals for weeks. That counted for something right?

Hermione could feel her heart emptying for the man sitting in front of her, his head down between his hands. Rage still bubbled underneath this newfound emotion but it felt like a distant memory. She cleared her throat, "I don't regret saving you, and I never will." His head shot up at her statement, and she watched confusion morph into a guarded wall presented in the form of a sneer and cold grey eyes.

"I wasn't looking for your pity Granger. Congratulations on your hero genetics but don't expect me to rush around thanking you."

"I wasn't asking for that you twat. I was telling you my feelings on saving you. That's what people do Malfoy, they share their feelings about situations and discuss them. But go ahead and shrivel back into your guarded cave. Thrive off your loneliness if you really want– but don't expect me to regret saving your life or to tell you I wish I hadn't saved you. I won't fuel your self hatred any further." His face blanched at the words 'self hatred' as though she had discovered some carefully protected secret.

She picked up a book from the nearest shelf to the door and sat down in the other armchair on the other side of the room.

"Does this look like a face that could possibly hate itself Granger?" He smirked, evidence of his emotional outburst from a minute ago now absent. She snorted but did not look up from her book or offer any last words.

They sat in silence for nearly two hours, both noses shoved into the books they were reading. Every now and then he snuck a glance over at her face, the ski slope nose and the swollen bottom lip from her habit of chewing it while she thought. Her eyes moved like bullets across each page, her brain most likely moving even faster. Something about her, the way the pride dissolved from her eyes once she realized no one was looking, he was intrigued. The burning of his mark stole his gaze and he grunted from the pain and moved to shift his sleeve. The Dark Lord was getting more and more impatient – the burns becoming increasingly urgent. He looked up to find her staring at his arm, where the mark was hidden.

"Is it hurting?"

"I don't see how that's any of your fucking business Granger."

She stood up, agitated, "I was only going to offer to help you look up remedies for it, but fine Malfoy, ride your pride all the way to Hell for all I care." With that, she walked out of the room and slammed the door.

* * *

"You really can't let him get to you like that."

Hermione sat across from Theo, who had his arm around his girlfriend while she hummed lazily to herself. "He's just infuriating. One moment I think he could actually be a decent person, and then he morphs into the little git I've always known he was."

"He isn't."

"Isn't what?"

Theo looked down sadly at the wooden knots dotting the table, his hand traced a circle around one before he spoke, "a git. He isn't. He can be an ass but deep down I don't think he's anything but scared and ashamed."

Hermione snorted, "Are you going into psychiatry Theo?"

A corner of his mouth lifted as he raised his eyes to meet hers, "Hey you came down here this morning asking for advice, I'm only trying to help." Luna got up from his arm to grab a plate of pancakes from the kitchen, "If he bothers you so much, I'll bring him his meals. I've put up with him for years, both before and after the war began. I'm good at handling dear Draco's lovely comebacks.

Luna came back to sit down next to Theo, "I think Draco has always been stubborn. I think he is scared, stubborn, and desperate to be right. Which does sound quite infuriating Hermione. You should try some breathing techniques." Theo looked over surprised at his girlfriend but didn't comment on her sudden wisdom.

"Since when do you know Malfoy, Luna?" Hermione noticed a knowing smile pull at the Ravenclaw's face before she spoke.

"I'm not sure if you've noticed, but I'm a pretty observant person. I usually pick up on things others do not seem able to see or if they can see it, they do not want to. It's classic human nature." She paused to take a bite of her breakfast, "I think Draco needs time to process what has happened to him. I think he'll prove to incredibly important to the war some day, however what side he proves important to, I can't tell. His loyalties are wavering; it's clear by how easily he accepted his capture. I haven't heard a single bang of wandless magic come from his room and I think only a fool would make no attempts to learn wandless magic when captured. A fool, or someone who isn't so sure which location is the real prison."

Hermione was left dumbstruck by the observations she'd foolishly ignored. Malfoy ignited a fire of emotions and the smoke too often clouded her judgment. Something about him got under her skin, and she shuddered to think, not always in a bad way. She was curious about him, about the way his mind worked, and what caused his eyes to go from a raging storm to a steady granite in a moments notice.

Harry, Ron, and Hannah walked into dining room as Luna got up to clean her plate and Theo followed. "Hey 'Mione," Harry ruffled the top of Hermione's hair in the way he knew she despised, "what were you guys talking about?"

Ron took Theo's vacated seat as Hannah sat next to him. The two had begun dating about a year ago and she'd never seen such a set of doe eyes as she did when they looked at one another. It was nauseating at times, but sweet and wonderful to see. All too often looked over in place of his best friend, Hermione was glad to see Ron getting the love he'd always deserved.

She sighed, "Malfoy. He's been an annoying house guest to take care of, to say the least."

Ron laughed, "I mean I'd be slightly concerned if he was being pleasant. I'm sorry but Harry and I may make his attitude just a bit worse today, we want to question him again."

"What? Why?" Hermione groaned, this would only set off more snide remarks and dirty comments that made her blush despite herself.

"I think Malfoy could have some knowledge about death eater safe houses and we could really use that information." Harry replied, "We've been foolish only questioning his experiences with Voldemort."

"Not to mention he could provide us with names of death eaters themselves or with plans for attacks against the order." Ron bit into an apple as he spoke, muffling half his words.

"He's been here for over two months, he isn't going to know any plans," Hermione protested, "But I can't deny that we've been slow to question him about things that actually matter."

"Well honestly, we were hoping he'd end up opening up to you." Harry looked sheepishly at his best friend, "That's why we haven't questioned him in over two weeks. We don't like that method, it feels barbaric."

"Malfoy will open up to me as soon as hell freezes over," Hermione tried to casually laugh but the memory of the night before, of his emotional outburst, felt like ice seeping through her brain. "When do you need him? Theo and I can bring him down, he at least doesn't want to kill us…I think."

Everyone at the table laughed, in the way one laughs at a truth that no one present wants to accept. War had turned their sense of humor dark, and eager. Any laugh was cherished. Harry was the first to clear his throat, "We were thinking tomorrow, maybe around noon? I think that is when Kingsley will be here." He pushed out his chair, "But let's at least try to enjoy the day. It's a beautiful sunny day and Ginny bought a new exploding snap game the last time she went out to get potion supplies, who wants to play?"

Ron smiled, already standing up to head to the small, protected yard they had for when the rain clouds took a rare break, "I'm already on my way there." He pulled Hannah outside as Hermione followed, grateful for the small breaks she got from the turmoil of the world around her, grateful for the friends she'd chosen to stick with through it all.

* * *

Draco's eye flew open, sweat dripping down his forehead. His sheets were twisted around his legs and he could hear his heart pumping adrenaline through his veins. This was the third nightmare in a row and if he had to look into that maniacal snake-like face one more time while he tried to sleep he was going to lose it. He sighed and walked over to his bathroom sink where Granger had left a glass and, earlier that day, more razors than any man would ever need at once. After a sip of water and acceptance that he wouldn't be sleeping anytime soon, the library seemed like the best option.

Hermione felt her heart leap out of her chest at the sound of the creaking door; she'd been half awake attempting to read through a book on burn relief. She looked up to see Malfoy, his pale skin contrasting with the darkness of the doorway. He had dark circles under his eyes and, as the unwanted butterflies in her stomach noted, he was not wearing a shirt. Her eyes raked hungrily over his torso, she wasn't an idiot and she wasn't going to deny he was attractive. She just hadn't realized how built he actually was. She finally landed on the mark on his left arm, black and angry looking, with an irritated red sheen surrounding the edges.

"Granger." His steely voice tore her attention to his face, which looked equal parts amused and surprised. His hand quickly went to cover his mark, although he winced when he made contact with the irritated skin. "What are you doing here, it's 3 in the morning."

"I could ask you the same question Malfoy." He declined an answer and instead turned around back into his room without closing the door. A moment later he reappeared but now with a sweater covering himself and, more importantly, his arm.

"I couldn't sleep." He sat in the other armchair, "I assume you couldn't either?"

"I really was just too lazy to get up from this chair and go down two flights of stairs to my room," she played with the hem on her sleeve, he noticed she hesitated from wearing anything that showed off her arms either, "and I was finding some interesting remedies in this book."

"Remedies for what?"

"Your arm."

His eyes went cold and his posture stiffened, "My arm is perfectly fine."

"No, it's bothering you. I just saw how irritated it is, the least I can do is help."

"Why do you even fucking care Granger? It's just a little burning, I've dealt with worse." He stood and turned to face away from her, looking through the books on the shelf behind him.

"Ah, so it has been burning! That was just a guess, but they didn't call me the brightest witch of her age for nothing." She sounded smug and when he turned back to her, the facial expression she wore matched her tone. "Well I have found some interesting burning remedies in this book, and I still have more to go through there one ov – "

"Granger none of these useless books are going to solve this problem so just give up the hero act."

"It's not an act you idiot, I am trying to help. Unless you're some masochist and enjoy constantly being in pain?" His silence was enough of an answer for her. "Then stop being so god damn stubborn and let me help you. Pick up the book over on that shelf and start reading."

Despite his begrudging expression, he walked over to the shelf and began to peruse the text, "why do you even care Granger? I'm not a stranger to pain."

Her eyes held his and he nearly looked away from the intensity of the emotion spilling out of their depths. Gryffindors were just so damn feeling all the time. Weren't they exhausted?

"Because you should be strangers. All of us should, and yet it is an old friend for every single person in this house. If I can distance the relationship for even one person, I will. You don't deserve pain Malfoy, and you don't deserve to be called back by some murderous psychopath."

"You've heard just the tip of the iceberg on the horrible things I've done. Trust me Granger, I deserve everything that is coming for me."

She smiled sadly, "What happened to the self-righteous Draco Malfoy I always knew? The one who thought he walked on gold and couldn't be touched?"

"War turns the best of us into monsters. For me, it only served to bring the ones from under my bed out to play." For once, the brightest and most stubborn member of the Golden Trio had no response. She sighed and shook her head before returning to the book she had open on her lap. Sensing she no longer wanted to speak, Draco sat back down in his chair with the book she'd instructed him to read.

The book turned out to be useless, with information only regarding burns received from carnivorous plants. He found himself looking at Granger more often than the words in front of him. She worried her bottom lip, an inquisitive tilt to her brow as she turned the page. She was curled up in her chair, her petite frame easily fitting in the oversized cushion. About an hour into their agreed silence, he had a realization that brought goose bumps to his flesh and made his heart pound in his ears. She was beautiful, absolutely and unquestioningly beautiful.

She looked up and caught him staring, curiosity overtaking her eyes. She opened her mouth, as if to ask a question, but promptly shut it again. Gaining her composure, she addressed him, "I'm not supposed to be telling you this, but they plan to question you again tomorrow. Around noon. If you could just cooperate we wouldn't have to use th – "

"No." He shook his head resolutely, "I may be stuck in these headquarters and I may be civil but that does not change the side for which I have fought for for the better part of four years." An image of his mother entered his mind as he continued, "And I will not willingly give up the safety of my family and friends. No matter what you think of them or my side or anything of the like. I will not be a turncoat – not willingly."

"We can try to guarantee the safety of your family! We can try to save them." She pleaded.

"Try." He snarled, "Try being the key word there. Absolutely not Granger. I will not risk them or their safety for your attempts. You know as well as I do that the majority of your precious Order will attack my family or friends no matter what special instructions have been given." The truth of his words was written across her face. "Don't make yourselves out to the hero's in a battle of demons. We're all guilty here, and I don't trust those that have a reason to feel remorse." He stood and slammed the book down on the table, anger coursing through his veins, "Goodnight. Can't wait for tomorrow."

* * *

Like clockwork, he heard Granger's familiar knock at his door at noon the next day. Behind her were Ron and Harry, both looking uncomfortable. She cleared her throat, "Malfoy, you're wanted for questioning if you'd come with us?"

"Oh don't flatter me by asking. Everyone here knows I have zero fucking choice in the matter. Let's get this shit over with."

He sat in the same chair in the same room they'd placed him in last time. Hermione and Ron took their place at the back but Harry remained at the front desk with Kingsley.

"I'm going to be the one questioning you this time Malfoy, I'd like to again offer for you to answer these questions without having to use Veritaserum."

"Oh shove off Potter and stop with the formalities." Draco bit back, "you're going to have to force it down my throat and everyone in this room knows it."

The potion slipped venomously down his throat, the familiar silk had now become snakelike to him. Harry waited a full minute before beginning, "What are the names of the other members of the Inner Circle?"

Their names and faces played out in his head like a film, his brain whispering to him to speak their identities, his teeth refusing to cooperate. He bit down until he tasted blood and it was only when black spots in his vision from the lack of air forced him to inhale and names came pouring out of his mouth, like floodwaters of a hurricane. And his knowledge was the eye of the fucking storm.

"Lucius Malfoy. Bellatrix Lestrange. Antonin Dolohov. Alecto Carrow. Amycus Carrow. Corban Yaxley." His eyes bore holes into Harry's head, murderously dark.

"And who is the highest ranked."

Oh fuck it, they already knew the damn members and his tongue and jaw hurt from the effort of the previous question. "Oh c'mon now Potter. I thought you would at least have this information. If not from common sense, than from being somewhat decent at war tactics. Bellatrix Lestrange is the highest ranked." If they were going to keep asking obvious questions perhaps he could get through this without feeling guilt tear at every bone in his body.

"So you are by far the youngest member of the inner circle?"

"Potter knows how to do his basic math." Draco mocked, "Yes I am the youngest. The Dark Lord saw…potential in me." He tried to hide the disgust that pooled in his stomach at that fact. Who the hell wanted to have potential at being an achieved prejudiced murderer?

"And your best friend, Blaise Zabini, he isn't in the inner circle?"

"Did I just list his name?"

Harry bit back a retort and took a deep breath. Draco turned to see Hermione looking pained next to Ron. Much to his surprise the ginger didn't look overly pleased with the situation either. Kingsley cleared his throat bringing Draco's attention back to Harry.

"We have reason to believe Blaise Zabini's summer house in Cornwall is a safehouse for the Death Eaters. Specifically, members of the inner circle and their closest allies. Is this true?"

Draco's blood turned to ice. So this is the facts they were actually after. They probably already knew who was in the fucking inner circle, they just needed to be sure before attacking. An emotion stronger than rage spread like fire, battling against the ice that seemed to have replaced his blood. To add to the fury, he suddenly felt a force attempting to break down his mental walls. He locked eyes with Kingsley and knew it to be him, the second most accomplished legilimens in the order. The best was sitting right behind him and seemed to at least have morals in not trying to kick a man when he was down. His walls held perfectly, they'd have to try harder than that.

Finally, after his mouth had filled with blood, the Veritaserum screaming in his ears and his hands shaking against the restraints of the chair, a barely audible "Yes." Slipped from his lips. As though it sense a traitor, his mark burned with vengeance against his skin and he did little to help it. He deserved the pain, all of it.

He'd just sentenced his closest friends and family to inevitable attack. And there was nothing he could do about it. Hopelessness joined in the party of emotions overtaking his body as he distantly heard the words, "Okay Malfoy. That's all for today. Hermione will take you back to your room." His world was spinning and he welcomed the floor as it rushed up to meet his face.

* * *

 **I hope everyone likes this so far! Once again please please review and tell me what you think! Thanks!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi everyone, sorry for the delay, I was on vacation the past week. I hope the length of this chapter makes up for it! As always, please please review! They absolutely make my day!**

* * *

"Draco?" Theo knocked on his door, but if that fucker thought he was getting a response, he was sorely mistaken. "Mate just let me come in and talk to you."

It had been two days since his questioning, although Madam Pomfrey had fixed up his face from his passing out, he still felt pain radiating through his body. Images of his family and friends circled through his mind, taunting him, whispering "traitor" as he tried – and failed – to fall asleep.

The door creaked open and he shot daggers at Theo's guilty looking form. His dark hair fell in front of his eyes, pools of shame shining out of his structured face. Draco tried to hide his shock when he saw Potter standing anxiously behind Theo. His promise to remain silent finally broke.

"What the actual fuck do the two of you want?" He stood from his bed and strode over to the door, "Come to steal more secrets from my unwilling mouth? Sentence more of my loved ones to death? So sorry but I can't say I'm totally in the mood right now. Maybe tomorrow."

"Malfoy," Harry spoke, "I wanted to speak to you about the Zabini residence. We're going to launch an attack, but we want to try and minimize the damage done." He opened the door fully, "Hermione had the idea to destroy the residence without hurting anyone there, that way our side still gains by destroying a safe house but you aren't responsible for hurting your friends and family." He looked up at Draco, blazing green eyes that held genuine concern.

Draco scoffed, "You expect me to believe that you lot will go into a Death Eater safe house and refrain from hurting the Death Eaters? How dumb do you actually think I am?"

Theo cleared his throat, "I thought it seemed impossible too, but Hermione came up with a plan."

"Oh and where is the dear golden girl?"

"Neville was injured after running into Macnair in Diagon Alley this morning. Luckily he had drank Polyjuice Potion or else Macnair would have aimed to kill. She's been helping tend to his wounds because Pomfrey is sick." Harry looked around the room surrounding Draco, "She was supposed to come up here with Theo but I said I'd go."

"She can come up to talk to you about it later if you'd prefer," Theo added hastily onto Harry's statement. Draco felt suspicion creeping over his body and could tell his face showed it, "She should be done in a bit, but well…you hadn't spoken a word for two days and we just, we were worried and wanted to tell you about this possibility."

"Oh you were worried about me? How sweet." Sarcasm and ice dripped off Draco's tongue "Didn't seem so worried when you shoved potion down my throat and forced me to become a fucking traitor. Where was the concern then dear Theo? Do I only warrant pity once I shut my mouth? Once I do something of my own free will?" Draco stepped back from the door, "Get the fuck away from me, both of you. Feel free to send Granger whenever she's done with the pathetic oaf that is Neville Longbottom."

"Hey! You can – "

"We'll send her up." Theo interrupted Harry's defense of Neville with a sigh. Draco slammed the door and went back to lie on his bed. His breakfast and lunch sat untouched on his bedside table.

A few hours later, he heard Granger's familiar knock on the door. She hesitantly opened the door, holding his dinner. "Malfoy? I brought you dinner, please eat this one." She set it down next to his other two meals and sat on the end of his bed.

He raised an eyebrow, "Who knew I'd only have to sulk a few days to get Granger into my bed."

She blushed but her eyes were blazing, "Really Malfoy, couldn't even take me on a date first. Tut tut." She half smiled at his surprise to her response. She stared over to his bedside table and her smile fell, "Theo told me you spoke with him and Harry?"

"Oh yes, excellent little chit chat between the bestest of friends." Draco rolled his eyes and got up from his bed to go into the library. Hermione followed him.

"Then you know I have a plan to ensure the safety of your friends and family!" He ignored her and picked up a book off the shelf nearest his favorite armchair. She huffed and ripped the book from his hands. "We aren't going to hurt any of them."

"And you expect me to fucking believe you? Look Granger, you've been friendly and all, I won't deny that, but don't sit here and pretend we're on the same side of this war. Don't you dare look me in the eyes and tell me you wouldn't be overjoyed to see Bellatrix Lestrange dead."

"I wouldn't!" She yelled. "I hate the woman. I truly do," her hand went to grasp at her wrist where he knew that word was etched into her skin. He felt bile rise to the back of his throat at the memory of that day. How desperate he'd been for an end to all of this. How desperate he still was. Her words stole his attention back to their conversation, "but I'm not a murderer. And I'm tired of watching my friends become one." She set the book she'd stolen from him down on the table and walked closer to him, closer than she ever had, "and if it was me being captured and questioned, if I'd been forced to give up the people dearest to me, I'd pray to every non-existent god that they'd spare them." She stood inches from him, brown eyes gazing into silver, "you don't deserve to live with the guilt of their lives on your hands. You don't deserve any of it. No one does."

Draco didn't know what to say. He knew Granger was selfless, anyone who had to hear about her ridiculous SPEW campaign at school knew about her giving heart. But this, this was more. He could feel her breath on his neck as she looked up at him, begging him to believe her. And fuck, he did. His cold heart told him he'd regret it, but he trusted her.

"You'll save them? All of them?" She could taste mint on his breath as he stared down at her. She could also hear her heart beating in her chest, for entirely different reasons than she expected. Flecks of blue dotted his eyes and she was reminded of an ocean, wracked by storms.

"All of them," she whispered. Noise seemed too delicate for this situation, once she'd stepped into his space, once his scent had invaded her mind.

"They're monsters. Some of them, they're the monsters you hide from in the dark."

"Well according to you, aren't we all?"

He dropped her gaze and looked down at her wrist that she was still holding. His fingers wrapped around hers and his eyebrows knit his forehead into regret, "she'll be there, I'm almost certain." He saw goose bumps rise on her arm but in this moment, he wasn't sure if it was due to his words or the way he'd absentmindedly begun rubbing his fingers against hers, as though he could erase the scar with the touch of his hand.

"I know." Her breath was hitched; she feared she might shatter the peace if she allowed herself to fully inhale. She was looking down at his hand and she felt fire from the place where their skin touched. He brought his hand to her chin and tilted her face up to look at his once more. His lips were slightly parted and she was startled to find butterflies erupting in her stomach at the idea of closing the distance, of feeling them against her own. Her fright at her body's response must have shown because he suddenly looked confused, scanning her face for signs.

Minutes – or possibly hours – passed before he spoke once more, "They don't deserve you."

"Which side?"

"Both." He tilted his head and leaned towards her and suddenly the door to the library burst open, revealing Theo.

"Hermione, Harry was asking for you for the strategy meeting in a few minutes I just thought I – " he cut off as he looked up to find Draco and Hermione standing dangerously close to one another. Draco's hand quickly stashed into his pocket, a place Theo was sure it hadn't been moment before. Hermione hastily stepped away from the Slytherin, nearly tripping over her own feet. Her cheeks were painted red and, Theo was surprised to find, so were Draco's.

"Can you tell him I'll be down in ten minutes? I'm not finished explaining the plan to Malfoy." Theo smirked as Hermione refused to look up at him.

"Yeah I'll let him know." He met Draco's eyes and turned to leave the room, softly closing the door behind him.

* * *

"So Hermione will go in the first wave and cast the spell she's found. Our batch of Polyjuice Potion will be done in a week so as soon as it finishes we can attack." Harry addressed the table of Order members, consisting mostly of members his same age.

"And what is this spell again?" Ginny asked.

"It encases people in a protective charm from any burns or fire. I found it in the library a few weeks ago. It is usually meant for one to two people but I think I can cover the people at the safe house."

"And remind me again why we even care about the safety of them? They're fucking murderers." Padma was livid at the end of the table, her boyfriend, Dean, looking equally as angry.

"Because if we do not have to kill, why would we?" Luna had an uncharacteristic ice to her voice.

"No one said we'd kill them, but I think they could stand to be roughed up a bit." Ever since the information about Seamus' death had filtered through the Order, Dean had become a more ruthless version of himself.

"The charm only protects from fire because we are going to blow up the safe house," Ron looked annoyed, "did 'Mione say anything about protection against spells?"

"Weren't you the most eager to kill Malfoy when he showed up a few months ago, Ron?" Dean began to stand from his seat, "Since when are you concerned with the safety of any Death Eater?"

"Since my best friend reminded me what it's like to have some fucking humanity." He roared over the growing chatter at the table.

"He chopped up my best friend so excuse me if I'm not eager to extend humanity!" Dean yelled back.

"Stop yelling at Ron for something someone else did, Dean."

"I can defend myself, Theo." Ron spat. Theo's hands went up in surrender as he rolled his eyes.

"Enough!" Harry nearly screamed over the table. Everyone fell silent. "We are doing this because I'm tired of casualties and the way we got this information was immoral in the first place, so may as well try to be as light as they believe us to be. We are not killing anyone on this mission. That is final."

Hermione unfurled the plans they'd drawn up of the house, based on all the research of the Zabini family and the area's architecture she'd been able to do in the past few days. "Now, Ron and myself will approach from the South side of the house in the first wave while Kingsley and McGonagall will approach from the North." She pointed at the map, "in the second wave Ginny and Luna will approach from the East and Neville and Dean will come in from the South. The goal is to be in and out within twenty minutes. We will go in, I will cast the spell and we will try to steal as many plans or information as we can. The second wave will help to set fire to the building and then we will blow it up right before apparating away." She looked around the table, "are there any questions?" The entire table shook their head as she rolled the map back up. "Excellent. Then we will plan to attack September 2nd."

* * *

He kept feeling her skin under his hands, her pulse racing against his own and her eyes, deep and chocolate, staring up at him. Why the fuck had he let her get so close to him? And why the fuck had he liked it? Draco felt a swoop in his stomach at the thought of how close he'd been to kissing her. What the fuck was wrong with him?

It had been a week since she'd come to him with her plan for the attack, a plan that he had to admit, was genius. She had come up with his breakfast that morning to tell him they planned to attack today and his stomach had been in knots ever since. All he'd been able to think about for a week was this attack and her. The dusting of freckles he'd noticed on her nose, they way she'd looked up at him with confusion and dare he say it, wanting?

When thoughts of her lessened, worry and fear for his friends and family settled into his heart. He'd spent the better part of his life assuring those around him that he was a cold, unfeeling person. It was better this way, he had few to disappoint and few to upset. He had set the expectations low and it was the way he was most comfortable. But he'd sooner rush into a burning building than sit and watch the most important people in his life burn.

A sudden crash and shouts of terror and anger pulled him out of his thoughts as he walked to his door and pressed an ear against the ancient wood. Two floors below, someone was screaming and someone else was screaming even louder back at them. From what he could guess, the mission was over – and it hadn't gone well. The worry he'd been thinking about for the past week grew like a weed in his stomach, the chaos from downstairs feeding its roots.

* * *

Hermione felt the ground hit her feet and she allowed her lungs air from the moment of suppression that came with apparition. Anxiety already swirled in her stomach and she pictured her parents in her head. Every battle she went into, they were all she could see. Would she die without ever fixing them, without ever finding them again? Would their only daughter die without them being the wiser to her existence? A sound tore her from her thoughts.

Ron popped up beside her, apprehensively looking ahead towards the sea. He had taken Polyjuice potion to look like the mailman who walked by Grimmauld Place each morning. The house was right in front of them, they just needed to wait for McGonagall and Kingsley to bring down the ward.

A moment later, the house appeared suddenly blocking their view of the ocean. "Let's get this over with," Ron sighed. He and Hermione climbed up the slight hill he house sat on and were instantly met with two Death Eaters. Before they could begin to duel them, Kingsley appeared at Hermione's side.

"Go!" He yelled to her while casting a shield charm. She didn't wait to be told twice. The Polyjuice Potion she'd taken, from the identity of a random muggle girl who worked at a coffee shop near Headquarters, had lengthened her legs and she found herself wishing she could always run this easily. She burst into the door and immediately threw up a powerful shield charm as three more Death Eaters leapt to their feet at her arrival. By the surprise on their faces, they had not been prepared for any kind of attack.

She recognized Dolohov and Goyle but the third had on a mask. Their spells were beginning to break down her shield and so with as much haste as possible she thrust her wand into the air, "ignis clypeus!" She shouted. The three Death Eaters looked around curiously as they felt the spell begin to take effect. There was a slight, orange glow around their bodies and by the fury twisting their features, they thought she'd just cursed them. _If only you knew_ , she thought bitterly to herself.

Just as she'd been about to exit the house, a fourth Death Eater rounded the corner and broke down her shield charm. Crazed black eyes stared out from a mass of black, curly hair that framed defined cheekbones. Bellatrix Lestrange had the look of murder written all over her face. Hermione felt as though she'd just been doused in ice water, freezing her joints and rooting her to the spot.

"Aw are the Order recruiting precious students now?" She looked at her skin with its slight orange glow, "and talented ones at that. Hi pretty girly, I hope you're a pathetic mudblood, it'd be a shame to spill pure blood." She raised her wand to curse Hermione but then two pops behind her gave Hermione time to send out a stunning curse. Ginny and Luna had arrived, early and in the wrong location. Both without the Polyjuice potion they were supposed to have taken.

They began to duel Bellatrix, who had narrowly missed Hermione's stunning curse, and signaled for Hermione to leave the house. But then how were they planning on getting out? She didn't have time to consider the answer however because Ron had suddenly grabbed her hand and yanked her away from the house. She crashed back on the floor of Headquarters, rage seething through her.

"What was that for?!" She turned on Ron who was dusting off his pants, "Ginny and Luna are still in the house!"

"McGonagall is handling it!" He shouted back, "Something went wrong with the Polyjuice potion, yours was about to wear off and mine had already turned my features back to their original state. You want the Death Eaters to suddenly realize they're dealing with Hermione Granger and not some random girl? You want them to torture you instead of a quick death? Because that's what was about to happen!" Ron's face was red and his hair was slowly turning to match it.

"That's the last time I let Padma take charge on making potions." Hermione grumbled and began pacing the room. Her friends were still out there and the entire plan was falling apart at the seams.

Five minutes later, two pops signaled the return of Dean and Kingsley. Dean was holding up Neville who had a bloody nose and looked semi-conscious. Theo, who had run into the room two minutes earlier, looked apprehensive, "Where's Luna?" He scanned the three men but none could supply an answer. Theo ran a hand through his hair, worry written across his features.

Harry, who had been pacing since Ron and Hermione returned, stood shaking in the corner of the room. "What about Ginny?" He whispered, too afraid for the answer. All he received was a sorry silence. They waited another ten minutes, Hannah offering to get them all tea without a response.

Finally, another pop brought everyone's attention the other end of the room, where McGonagall was supporting both Ginny and Luna. It was hard to tell which girl was worse off, with blood and bruises marring their faces. Neither seemed to be conscious. Harry and Theo sprinted to the sides of their girlfriends, tension apparent in every aspect of their posture.

"What happened?!" Theo screamed at McGonagall.

"Bellatrix. They were both battling her inside the house when the fire began and Hermione didn't get a chance to cast them with the fire protection spell." She looked somber and she allowed both Harry and Theo to support Ginny and Luna. "I was able to get them out before the house blew up, but they'd already been badly injured by Bellatrix. Get them up to the infirmary, quickly." She gestured to the stairs and everyone collectively helped lift the girls up the stairs up to Madam Pomfrey, who still had Neville's blood on her robes.

Harry and Theo both paced anxiously as Pomfrey and Hermione worked tirelessly to tend to Luna and Ginny's wounds. Hannah, who had been training with Pomfrey the past few weeks, came up to help. After an hour, the girls finally looked like themselves, save for a few bruises that didn't seem to want to heal. Luna had suffered the worst damage, having been on the receiving end of an internal injury curse. Once Hermione, Pomfrey, and Hannah finished up, Theo raced to her bed with tears streaming down his cheeks.

"The next time I see that evil woman, I'm gonna kill her." He said through ground teeth. Harry nodded in agreement from Ginny's bedside, tears also in his eyes. The rest of the Order silently crept out of the infirmary, allowing privacy for them. Hermione sighed and climbed up to the library, defeated, tired, and more than anything – angry.

* * *

Two weeks after the battle at the Zabini safehouse, Ginny and Luna were finally back to their normal selves. Theo and Harry had calmed down, but resentment towards the Death Eaters had grown even stronger in them. Theo had refused to speak to Draco – or even look at him. As if Draco himself had been the one to try and kill his girlfriend. Hermione had been more subdued with him too, barely offering conversation for each meal she brought. She'd refused to look him in the eyes once and he was growing impatient and more importantly – bored.

On the night of a particularly bad storm, he walked into the library to find her curled up in his favorite armchair. She was reading that damn history book of Hogwarts, which he was sure he'd already seen her reading at least three times before this. A stack of burn relief books sat on the table next to her. They were on top of the several books on wards he'd been looking over the past few weeks. He was still desperate to understand how the wards had gone down when he'd escaped Voldemort. But the more he looked, the less answers he seemed to find.

"You're in my seat Granger."

"Does it have your name on it?" She responded pettily without looking up. He rolled his eyes and settled into the chair on the other side of the couch. They sat in silence for a little over ten minutes before he finally cracked.

"You know if you were going to be angry at me for your whole plan with the Zabini house then why did you even do it in the first place?"

She looked up, surprised. "I'm not angry at you."

"Oh sure, and Theo thinks the world of me too."

"I can't speak for Theo, but I'm not angry at you. If I had to go back, I'd still protect every person in that house." She bit her bottom lip, concern pooling in her eyes. "I wish the rest of the attack hadn't gone the way it did. But I don't blame you for any of it, and I'm not angry with you."

"Well then why the fuck have you been so quiet the past few weeks?" He stood and sat on the side of the couch nearest her, "You won't even look me in the eyes."

She shut her book and looked over at him, the damned butterflies he'd been trying to ignore when it came to her fluttered in his chest. "Why do you care Malfoy?"

He didn't have an answer for that one. Why did he care? Why was he so eager for their conversations, to look into her eyes? "I don't. But I sit around doing nothing all day, every day. So you can't blame me for getting curious."

"I don't like battles. I don't like when they go poorly. And I especially don't like when it's my fault." She looked down at her lap, ashamed.

Draco's eyebrows shot up on his forehead. "How the fuck is my crazed aunt your fault? How is anything that happened your fault?"

"It doesn't matter." She stood from her chair and began to walk away from him.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her back, within inches of him. "Yes. It does matter." He let go of her arm but she made no attempt to move away from him. "You're a lot of things Granger, but dumb isn't one of them. But you sure are acting like it. The battle wasn't your fault."

She looked up at him through her lashes, "I froze. When I saw her, I froze. Everything came back and I froze. And I couldn't help them."

He mentally reminded himself to refrain from taking her into his arms, to offer comfort in any way he could. What the fuck was wrong with him, when had he gone softer than saint Potter? "She still bothers you that much?"

She stepped away from him, "you have the most insulting word known to wizard-kind carved into your arm by a deranged lunatic and then you tell me you'd be just peachy running into her!" She shouted. "So sorry I can't turn off my feelings all the god damn time like you seem to."

"I think you're forgetting that deranged lunatic is my aunt. And that I report to the biggest deranged lunatic of them all. So yes, I do know where you're coming from. I just, I didn't know she bothered you that much. You seemed fine with seeing her last time we talked." The memory of last time, of her freckles and the feeling of her skin flew into his mind. He almost ached to reach out to her.

"Well she does." Hermione retorted, softer this time. "I can't just turn it off. If I could, I wouldn't be so nervous every time I go into battle. If I could, maybe I'd be able to move on, sleep a full night. But I can't." Draco felt his pride take a harsh blow at her words. His assurance that no one in this prison could understand how he felt, that they were all pampered self-righteous bastards went out the window. Here he was, standing across from someone who very much understood. And despite it all, was warm and kind and soft. He was jealous of her grace, her forgiveness, her heart.

"I'm sorry."

She whipped her head up to look at him, "What did you just say?"

"I said I'm sorry. I'm sorry the war has done this to you. You don't deserve it."

"Thank you," she replied slightly awkwardly, "you don't either."

He chuckled, "Yeah I think you've told me that – just once or twice."

She laughed and he found himself falling for the sound of it, what he'd do to hear it again and again. He mentally punched himself, what the fuck was getting into him?

"Well I meant it," she said, "in case you didn't know." She smiled and settled back onto the chair with her book. He smiled softly and settled into the other chair. They sat in silence for hours, a new understanding seeming to bridge the gap neither had realized was there until it wasn't. The silence was comfortable, but as Draco's thoughts seemed unable to allow him to forget, it would be a hell of a lot more comfortable if she was sitting next to him.

* * *

 **I hope everyone liked this chapter! It took me a bit to write and I apologize for typos, I tried reading through it and catching what I could. Please please review and let me know what you think! Thanks!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Please please review and let me know what you think! It encourages me a lot more to write when I get some feedback!**

 **As always, everything belongs to J.K. Rowling.**

* * *

"Luna you are actually the best person on this planet."

Ron snorted, "sure you aren't a bit biased there, Theo?"

Theo smirked and shook his head, "no I only speak facts actually, Weasley."

Hannah whispered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like 'children.' Hermione looked over the plans Luna had somehow been able to pocket from the Zabini attack nearly a month ago. Bellatrix's curse had messed with Luna's physicality, taking a full two weeks to heal, but few spells could touch the ingenuity of a pure Ravenclaw. As they'd looked over the plans the past two weeks, they'd found more and more information to help them stage another attack.

"If I could go in and do the spell again –"

"No." both Harry and Theo spoke at once. The scars from the past battle had made deeper cuts on the loved ones of those injured than the actual victims. Hermione found herself wondering if there were any true survivors when it came to war.

"But they could die!"

"Look 'Mione," Harry placed a soothing hand on her shoulder, "I don't want to kill any more than you do but I think the last battle was naïve. We can't fight these people without matching their fury. I wanted to try and do this right, but considering this information wasn't stolen using a forced potion and emotional trauma, I feel a little less guilty about going in with more powerful intentions." He looked up to the ceiling where Draco Malfoy was residing four floors above.

Hermione had to admit, her favorite aspect of the plans Luna had found was the fact that Draco hadn't had to be questioned in a month. She'd already taken away the free will of the people most important in her life, and she had vowed to never do it again. Yet here she was, an accessory to a crime she never intended to commit.

"At least let me warn him," she whispered through the pain she felt from betrayal seeping into her bones.

"Do you really think that will help anything?" Ron looked concerned across the table at his best friend. His sensitivity with the entire Draco Malfoy situation continuously shocked Hermione to her core. The once proud and temperamental boy she'd known had grown into an understanding and brave man.

"He deserves to know what is coming." Theo spoke resolutely next to Hermione. Ron, continuing on his apparent mission to shock her, held his tongue when Theo locked eyes with him.

"He won't like it." Harry remarked.

"Well no shit Sherlock." Theo smirked and looked over to the Gryffindor sitting next to him, "should I tell him? Or will you?"

Hermione thought of the past few weeks, how Theo hadn't so much as looked Draco in the eyes. How his jaw had tensed whenever the unwitting guest had even been mentioned, the fire that overtook his eyes whenever he gazed at Luna and the scar on her shoulder from Bellatrix's spell. "I should do it."

* * *

Draco had watched the leaves on the small tree outside his window slowly morph in an attempt the match the sun setting in the sky. It was his only clue as to how far into autumn he was, how long he'd been trapped in this house. He looked over at the pile of books next to his bed, all regarding wards and wandless magic. He could have sworn he'd been able to slightly move his razor towards his hand this morning with a wandless accio.

As strong as he was in wandless tactics such as legilimency, he'd always struggled with charms and curses. A fact that Voldemort had been more than angry about. He suspected it was why his punishments had always been more harsh than the punishments directed towards other members of the inner circle. Perhaps it was his age, or maybe it was karma – acting through the one who had influenced the karma Draco deserved in the first place. Karma really _was_ a bitch.

Her familiar knock on his door made him turn his head to catch her eyes as she entered his room. He felt heat spread through his body, conducting electricity at his fingertips that ached to reach out and touch her, feel the connection he'd come to accept that they had. It was a fact he was still wrestling over, she'd caught him on a good day – when he'd accepted defeat.

"Malfoy, we need to talk."

"Pity Granger, I wasn't expecting this talk until at least the fifth date."

Her eyes flicked to his bed as she smiled, "Well that's what you get for rushing me to bed. All good things take time, don't you know?"

He felt a laugh build in his stomach and burst out his mouth. Unexpected and pure and, Hermione noted, maybe one of the best sounds she'd ever heard.

"You get better and better at the retorts each time I see you Granger, please tell me Theo isn't feeding you answers through one of those weird muggle talking contraptions I've seen on the passer-by on the street."

She giggled, "A cell phone?" He nodded, confused as to whether that's what he meant or not, "Nope. It's all me. I'm insulted you think so little of my intelligence." She feigned hurt as she stepped closer to where he stood at his window.

They had been in close quarters a few times since he'd nearly kissed her over two weeks previously, but it was an unspoken agreement that they did not touch. Or speak of that moment. In fact at this point, he wasn't sure it had been real. He felt the hair on his arms stand on end as she approached and mentally cursed his unwilling reaction to her presence. His ideologies fought hard against his logic and his body's responses. As much as he genuinely didn't give a shit about blood status any longer, she still stood as a muggle-born figure for the light side of this war. She stood for everything he was meant to despise, meant to eradicate. And yet, she rarely left his thoughts.

She looked up curiously at him as he fought a mental battle to resist stepping forward. She moved past him and leaned to look out at the window where he'd been watching before she'd walked in. "I've always loved autumn," she sighed happily, "the entire world feels like a sunset."

He snorted, "I never pegged you as poetic Granger."

Her smile fell and she turned to look back at him, less than a foot away and yet it felt like miles. "The war turned me into a hopeless romantic, what can I say?"

He laughed softly, "are you telling me you have fallen in love with the dying leaves on the trees?"

"I have fallen in love with all of it. With life. I've forced myself to fall in love with life while I still cling to it." The honesty of her words left him speechless. Trust Granger to find optimism in a world wracked by darkness. She looked down at her feet and then back up at him, a newfound sadness in her eyes, "I need to tell you something."

"I assume it's not good? Do I get to make good friends with the lovely Veritaserum again?" He shivered at the memory of the last questioning session, at the weakness he'd felt and shown.

"No, we're not questioning you again." She stuck out her bottom lip slightly in anger, "well for now." He shouldn't have been surprised to find she hated that they questioned him, but he was. "the Order is planning another attack."

He understood quickly and it sent his mind reeling. "They aren't going to protect anyone this time, are they?"

She shook her head woefully and he felt anger bubble in his stomach, ready to boil over. "I'm not thrilled about it either, but the decision ultimately falls down to Harry, Mad-Eye, Kingsley, and McGonagall. They were unanimous that it was too dangerous to try that again." She tried to catch his gaze but he was avoiding her, stepping backwards.

"Oh and I'm sure Potter's decision has nothing to do with the fact his precious little weasel was injured last time?

"There's no need to lash out at Ginny, it's not her fault."

"I'm only acknowledging the clear biases in place when you're fucking the chosen one."

"Malfoy!"

"Tell me I'm wrong! Tell me if someone else had been injured, then Potter would have reacted just the same!"

"He would!" He scoffed in disbelief and so she continued, "Harry believes in every single person on his side of the war, and he believes in saving them. Had any single member of the order been as injured as Ginny, he'd react the same way." She crossed her arms and added coolly, "he doesn't pick loyalties and favorites and inner circles."

Her last words were a hiss that snaked its way into his bones, finally boiling over the rage. "Do you think I fucking chose to be one of the favorites? Do you think I like this shite?" He ripped back his sleeve to reveal his mark bloodied with scabs torn apart against red and irritated skin. She gasped in shock and stared in horror at the ugly twisting snake barely visible under the damage.

"You said it was getting better."

"I lied." He bit out. He was trying to pull his sleeve back over the mark without causing further agitation. She reached out and held his hand over the hem of his sleeve.

She pulled out her wand and silently waved it over his skin. He felt like ice had settled over that tattoo, instantly soothing the burning. "If I'd known." She whispered brokenly, "If I'd known. I would have done more research; I would have been up to perform this spell every hour. It doesn't last much longer than that but if I'd known…" She trailed off and looked up him, her hand still over his.

"You don't need to do that Granger," he mumbled, distracted by her hand over his, "you don't need to help me."

"I want to." He reached out and cupped her cheek. She leaned into his touch, slightly sighing. She looked down at his arm and gently lifted his sleeve to guide it past his mark without touching the skin. He grasped her hand when it reached back down to his and laced his fingers in between hers. The anger that had been simmering now felt like a distant memory. Her eyes caught their hands locked together and a sudden realization seemed to transform her expression. She pulled her hand away from him and stepped back. "I can start doing some more research now." She opened the door to the library as he stood still rooted to the same spot. She bit her lip nervously, "do you want to join?"

He smiled despite himself and managed to pick up his feet even though they felt as though they'd been weighed down by lead. "Why not." He followed her into the library and noticed the burning from his arm seemed to have migrated to his hands, which were determined to hold onto the memory of her skin.

* * *

She looked over at Harry and shook her head, he was motioning for them to move down the hallway of the safe house they'd successfully infiltrated twenty minutes ago, but her detecting spell had sensed ten people on the floor above them. None of them had taken Polyjuice potion since the next batch had had to be scrapped and it would have taken too long to make enough for them all. And, there were only seven of them there. They were outnumbered and needed to wait for the rest of the order to get there. But Hermione had always been the logical one of the group, she wasn't surprised Harry was eager to move on without the proper reinforcements.

"We can take them." He whispered.

"You don't even know who 'them' are!" She spat back, "it could be Voldemort up there right now, the detection spell doesn't say who it is!"

Hannah remarked "she's got a point you know" at the same time that Ron rolled his eyes and agreed with Harry's plan to move forward. McGonagall was rubbing her temples behind Hermione, clearly annoyed at being surrounded by her former students. Mad-eye suddenly stumped up behind them, having remained silent until he was within feet of his destination. Kingsley was behind him along with several former Hogwarts professors. She looked out at them and felt emptiness in her chest at the missing giant face of Hagrid. Having been sought out by the ministry, giants, and Voldemort, he'd had to go into hiding in the Scottish Highlands. He sent letters when he could, but she missed him desperately.

"Right," Harry looked behind at their new arrivals and struggled to catch the attention of Dean, Padma and Neville who had crouched near the staircase about ten feet ahead of them. "Now, can we go?" The group nodded and, with wands ready, they charged up the stairs with the element of surprise on their side.

It was a blur of curses flying past her face, shield charms shooting out of her wand to protect her friends, and screams of rage from the death eaters at having been discovered. She ran to the room that appeared to be their office and magically locked the door shut. Her task was to discover more information that could help them, and she spotted battle strategies openly lying on the desk in front of her. As she leapt toward them, the window behind the desk smashed open and showered broken glass shards over her face. She felt the stings of their cuts on her cheeks, unsure of how deep they'd gone.

The rain from outside whipped into the room and began to cover the documents. She quickly stashed them into her beaded bag, sending a drying spell down to her treasure. An explosion then shook the entire house and destroyed the door to the room. She peered out at the scene of the blast and felt a sudden wave of nausea rip apart her stomach.

Pansy Parkinson laid across the floor, bent at an angle that guaranteed she had not survived the bomb. Her leg was bleeding so profusely below her knee that Hermione was not sure whether the rest of the limb remained. Despite the horrors she'd seen in war, a scream ripped out of her throat and fount a barrier against Ron's hand. He had rushed into the room upon seeing Hermione standing unprotected and now was nearly supporting her weight as her legs gave out beneath her. Harry ran towards his best friends and with a violent crack, all three had apparated back to headquarters, the broken body of Pansy stained across Hermione's eyelids.

"WHAT HAPPENED?" Hermione felt like she'd nearly burst a vein as she addressed her friends. Theo came running from the other room, having stayed back from this battle.

"We don't know!" Harry kicked the table leg in frustration as Ron apparated away again, most likely to find Hannah back at the scene of the attack. "We were battling, each Death Eater was taking on one to two order members and Pansy was going crazy, shooting curses in every direction in the middle of the room. Mad-Eye went to fight her and then as I turned my head to block Zabini from a stunning curse, I heard the explosion and was blasted off of my feet to the other side of the room." He looked at Hermione in defeat, "I think it got some of our side too. I just. I don't know. We couldn't let the documents you were retrieving get destroyed, I had to get you out of there." He embraced Hermione in a tight hug and she was reminded of her conversation with Draco a week before. Something told her that her early departure from the safe house had less to do with the contents of her bag and more to do with her status as Harry Potter's best friend. Guilt rushed through her blood, mixing with the adrenaline and horror from the day and creating sickening cocktail.

A crack resounded from the floor above them, where voices were shouting in the infirmary. More had been injured in this endless war, more had died, more love had been lost. She retched onto the floor as the images of her parents swam behind her closed eyes.

* * *

"Draco?" her voice was small behind his door and his stomach sank farther than it already had. He'd heard the yelling, the chaos of their return from the attack. Her knock at his door cemented into place what he already knew: one of his one had been injured.

"What is it Granger?" She looked pale and sick. The only hint that she'd been in battle were the numerous cuts across her cheeks. It looked like she had not even attempted to remedy them.

She shut the door behind her and shuffled towards where he sat on his bed. "It's the battle." He tried meeting her eyes but she stared determinedly at the ground, "it didn't go well…there were…there were casualties."

"On which side?"

He saw tears rolling down her cheeks as she responded, "both."

"Who died Granger?" She shook her head silently and finally looked at him, her eyes watered down with grief. She remained silent and he grew more adamant, standing up from the bed. "Granger. Who died?"

"Pansy Parkinson."

The room was spinning; surely his feet could not be planted onto the ground at this moment. Surely his body was revolving with the earth, at light speed with little coherence. One of his oldest and best friends was dead, surely reality could not cease the way in which the room rotated around him. "Who killed her?" He choked out.

"We don't know, there was an explosion and suddenly she was on the ground. It got Professor Sinestra too; she was blasted through the wall and out of the building. But Pansy…she was hit with the worst of it."

"Who. Killed. Her." His teeth ground against one another as he stepped towards her and she doubled backwards, fear covering the anguish on her face. Somewhere deep within him, he was disturbed by the fear he invoked in her, but it was buried beneath the fact that Pansy Parkinson was dead.

"I told you, we don't know."

"WELL THEN YOU'RE FUCKING USELESS AREN'T YOU?"

"Draco –"

"Get. Out."

"Please we can discuss th—"

"GET THE FUCK OUT MUDBLOOD." Regret washed over his body instantly, but the damage was done. Her jaw clenched and she subconsciously grabbed her wrist. She turned from him and walked out, slamming the door. As soon as she was gone, he allowed the ocean of emotions swirling in his head to cascade down his cheeks, hot and rushed and a cruel reminder he was alive.

* * *

 **Hi sorry I know this chapter is shorter than the previous ones but I liked where it ended. The next chapter will be extra long since I cut some stuff I planned to include in this chapter, so it'll spill over to the next update! I hope you guys liked this! I had some major writers block but I like the way it turned out. Please please please review, I can't say how much they make my day and make me feel inspired to write more!**

 **Thanks!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hi guys! I hope you all like this, it's a tad angsty but what else is new aha please please review they make my day! As always, everything belongs to J.K. Rowling!**

* * *

"Draco what the actual FUCK is wrong with you?" Theo burst through the door, fury pulsing in the vein on his forehead. He had been bringing Draco's meals for the past week without speaking more than a few words. Something told the blonde that Hermione had finally spoke with someone about what he had called her when she'd come to inform him of Pansy's death.

"Well that took long enough." He feigned indifference as he looked up from his seat at the desk across from his bed. "Did precious Granger finally tell someone all her dirty little secrets? Did you share gossip over popcorn at a slumber party? And to think I wasn't even invited."

"Oh will you stop with this shite Malfoy?" Theo threw the plate carrying his dinner across the room and didn't even watch for it to smash against the wall. His gaze was fixed onto Draco's, silver staring into blue, trying to find some hint of the other within. "We both know that you don't believe in the evil that is attached to that word anymore," he raised his lips in an almost cruel smile, "and I'm not fucking blind. I saw the way you were looking at her, I see what is happening here."

Draco desperately tried to hide the shock at his former friends' words. When had Theo even seen the two of them together? He was forcefully reminded of the time he'd burst in on them, almost two months ago, when he'd been dangerously close to kissing one of the biggest figure heads for the light side of the war. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Theo let out a humorless laugh, "like I said. I'm not blind – and I'm not dumb." He paused, "look have any fucking feelings you want for her, she's oblivious to them and from what I can tell, so are you. But don't take your anger out on one of the only god damned people in this house that can somehow find something redeeming about you."

"Aw and who are the other people that want to throw me a pity party, Theo? Are you one of them? Leader of the fan club?"

"Fuck no. Because of trying to protect your precious feelings, the love of my life was nearly killed." Pain flitted across Theo's features, but then Draco blinked and it was gone, "and now you use that word against one of my best friends? A word, may I _fucking_ remind you, is carved into her skin!"

"May I remind _you_ ," Draco spoke dangerously low, venom laced into his eyes, "that while one of your best friends merely got their feelings hurt, mine is dead. And may I be ever so kind to remind you that the former 'love of your life' is also dead." Draco put a finger up to his lips, feigning thought, "oh wait that's right, they're the same fucking person! Or have you been so quick to forget where your original loyalties lay Theo? Do you really have no sympathy for the death of the woman you once claimed to love, unconditionally and without abandon?"

Theo grasped the bridge of his nose in exasperation and let out a sigh, "Draco lets not go there."

"No old friend, lets."

"We were kids back then Draco, in school and oblivious to the realities of the world."

"It was two fucking years ago, Nott. Were we really such kids, so different than we are now? By that twisted logic, I could claim I was a child a week ago and therefore really shouldn't be held responsible for what I said or did –"

"Draco for the love of fucking god, do you ever shut up?" Theo threw up his hands, "you really don't see it do you? You've been so manipulated, so primed to believe whatever he wanted you to, whatever served him best. You talk about twisted logic but you haven't even begun to examine your own!" he took a breath before continuing, "yes, I left Pansy when I turned traitor to the dark side. Yes, I once loved her, and yes I am sorry it hurt her and hurt you that I left, but for fucks sakes when are you going to realize that Pansy, Goyle's father, Crabbe, and every other person we once knew signed their own fucking death sentence the moment they became servants for that lunatic? When are you going to swallow the planet-sized lump that is your pride and accept the fact that your good old pal Voldemort did not lose a second of sleep over the death of Pansy Parkinson? That every single person fighting for him are like pawns: expendable, and worthless."

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air, threatening to choke the both of them. "Get out, Nott."

"Gladly."

* * *

Hermione sat awkwardly in the infirmary while Pomfrey examined her exposed wrist, occasionally tapping her wand against the scarred skin. Harry and Ron sat on either side of her, with Ginny furiously pacing a few feet away from him.

"I cannot believe you didn't tell us sooner!" The youngest Weasley roared, "He is not allowed to speak to you like that Hermione, and to use that word! I am livid, I should go up there and talk to him –"

"Ginny love?" Harry interrupted. She whipped her head in his direction, her hair matching the fire in her eyes. "I don't think this is helping." He gestured to Hermione who looked as though she was lost, staring down at her wrist and barely blinking.

Ginny's expression softened and he went over to rub her friends' back. "We can have someone else take care of him, Hermione. Theo can take it up long term."

The aforementioned Theo walked into the infirmary at that moment, shaking his head. "It's a miracle I haven't thrown that wanker out the window."

Ron laughed and gave Theo an approving clap on the back as he sat down. Everyone in the room – even Hermione – stopped what they were doing to look curiously over at the duo. The two had hated each other since Theo joined the Order over a year ago. Ron looked around as the shocked faces and shrugged, "What? We can all agree Malfoy is a wanker."

"He's hurting." Luna's voice turned every head in the room towards the door. "He just lost his best friend. At our hand. And we're keeping him locked up surrounded by people he was raised to hate. Not to mention, we're forcing him to answer questions that put the people he cares about at risk. How is anyone surprised he's snapped?" She crossed her arms, "and as far as snapping goes, this wasn't even that bad. He's not an idiot. He could have learned wandless magic and hurt someone, he could have tried to hurt her or Theo. But he hasn't."

"That doesn't exactly excuse him being an absolute git though, Luna." Harry said.

"How would you feel if someone on the dark side had just killed Hermione? Then on top of that, were keeping you locked up and used information they forced out of you in order to find Hermione in the first place? Would you be kind to your captors? Patient?" Luna was one of the only Ravenclaws of the Order, and at this moment, it showed.

"He didn't get us the information on that safe house, you did!" Ron was standing, temper getting the best of him.

"And how did I get the knowledge of the safe house? Where did I obtain it? This all comes back to the Zabini house and us forcing him to tell the Order about it."

"They're the bad side though! Forgive us for trying to put a rest to the side run by an evil lunatic." Ginny's temper was quickly matching her brother's.

"Yes. Their leader is vile, and they are horrible. But they are still the people he's loved all his life, the people who got into his brain and tainted it with beliefs he probably doesn't even support anymore." It was the most Hermione had spoken in days. She'd been replaying the exchange between her and Draco for a week in her head. It interchanged between the moment she received her scar and the moment she erased her parent's memories, never to see them again. In a war of pain and sacrifices, she felt cheated, as though she'd given more of herself than others. She found herself understanding the emotions of someone she'd never intended to speak to again, understand what he'd given up, how desperately he missed his family. Her eyes locked with Luna's in support, "They are the bad side, but they are still his family. It doesn't excuse what he called me, it doesn't excuse what he or any of them have done, but it doesn't excuse what we have done either." She thought back to the months of time she'd spent with him, in the library, in his room, relearning what it meant to be a part of war, "we're all monsters in war, just because we are the less murderous monsters, it doesn't disguise what we've done."

"You're all crazy." Ginny whipped up her hands and marched out of the room.

"They're Death Eater's Hermione." Harry whispered.

"And they are horrible. I don't feel sympathy for them Harry, they chose their side, but I won't try to pretend we are guiltless in this either. They're evil, and I hope they rot in Azkaban, but they still have those that they love, everyone does." She laughed coldly for a moment, "well except Voldemort. I don't truly believe he's human."

"We can agree on that." Ron rubbed Hermione's back and Pomfrey finished looking over her wrist. Some scars, it seemed, simply could not heal.

* * *

October transformed into the rainy days of November and Draco found himself in the library for what felt like the millionth night in a row. Theo was still bringing his meals and the two did not speak. He found himself craving human interaction, specifically a human with warm brown eyes and more wit than the entire house put together. He looked over at the pile of discarded books next to his chair. He'd researched everything he could on wards and still could not figure out how his had gone down all those months ago.

The conclusion Draco had been forced to come to was that someone had to have personally taken down the wards while he was being tortured. There were only a select few with the authority at Malfoy Manor to disable the wards, and he had a sinking feeling he knew who it was. The suspects were either his father, Voldemort, or his mother. Anyone with a remaining brain cell could figure out who had done it, who had risked their life. Draco's blood pounded in his ears every time he let the reality sink in that he may never see his mother again.

The only thing that calmed his anxious heart was the promise to himself that he would figure out a way to get out of this headquarters and return to the Manor. He had to be sure, he had to do everything he could to find her and if she was still alive, to rescue her. Most days, he convinced himself she was still alive. Her husband, son, and sister were members of the inner circle; her home was a regular place of meeting for the dark lord and his followers, so surely he'd have mercy on her. Right?

The door to the library opened slowly and distracted him from his worried thoughts. Hermione poked her head in through the door before spotting him, biting her lip, and then walking through and closing the door behind her. He hadn't seen her in weeks, and he'd forgotten how beautiful she was, he felt like he couldn't breathe, too afraid of scaring her away. The image of hurt and fear painted across her features the last time he'd seen her was bleached into his memory, bright and demanding to be seen.

"I didn't think you'd be in here. It's three in the morning."

"Sleep doesn't exactly come easy to me."

She looked over at the pile of books next to him, suspicious creeping over her brow, "what are you researching?"

"The wards from the night you found me. I wanted to understand how and why they went down."

"And did you find your answer?"

"The 'how' part, still struggling with the 'why.'"

She looked down at her feet and grasped her wrist. She hated feeling this vulnerable around him again, as afraid as she'd been the day she'd brought him back to headquarters. Everything in his posture suggested anxiety as well, and she found herself hoping she wasn't the cause of it, that she wasn't the reason he struggled to sleep. She'd forgiven his outburst from weeks ago, more for her own mental health than his, but she hoped desperately that he'd forgive himself.

"I'm sorry your best friend died." She hadn't meant to say that, had meant to comment on the wards, and then suddenly the apology, the elephant in the room was stumbling out of her lips. His lips parted in shock and he held her gaze. His eyes beamed out grief across the room, chipping away at her resolve to remain cautious. To remember where he had come from, who he had surrounded himself with, and how he had risen to the top of the immoral side of the war. But, was there really a moral side in war? She wasn't sure.

"Granger," He stood and walked towards her. She subconsciously backed against the wall and so he stopped, not wanting to frighten her, "I'm sorry. For saying what I said, for hurting you. I truly am sorry." He had not intended to apologize, as much as the guilt from their last encounter weighed down his chest, his pride was usually heavier. But not with her, with her, his pride turned feather light, almost forgotten.

"You should be." She turned up her nose slightly, "I didn't deserve that."

"No, you didn't."

"However, I've already forgiven you. More for my sake than your own don't flatter yourself. But," she looked down for a moment before returning to look over his expression, "you were hurting. And if someone had killed Ron or Harry I – " She cut off, overcome with the pain that captured her breath.

Even the thought of losing them was too much, too real. She had already lost too much, had already watched the ones she loved lose parts of themselves. What she wanted more than anything, a hug from her mother, a whispered promise from her father that everything would be all right, she could never have. Her parent's faces flowed through her mind, and then Draco's when he'd found out about Pansy and suddenly she was searching for oxygen in a room that seemed devoid of air, hyperventilating for relief that felt as though it would never come.

Strong arms were suddenly wrapping around her middle and a soothing, cool voice was whispering in her ear, telling her to breathe. She felt light, as though her feet were hardly touching the ground. A pleasant warmth was spreading from where she was being held to the tip of her fingers and up through her lungs and then onto her cheeks. She realized the warmth on her cheeks was not from the embrace, but from the rushed tears she didn't know she'd released. She heard a shushing in her ear and the arms began to rock her back and forth, almost completely supporting her weight. In a moment of clarity, she finally took in a massive breath of air and began to return to her senses. The arms holding her were none other than Draco Malfoy's.

Her words had cut off and he'd seen the panic attack creeping up her shoulders, whispering anxiety into her ear. She'd struggled for breath for only a moment before he'd closed the distance between them and taken her into his arms. "Hermione. Hermione, you need to breathe, okay? Can you breathe for me love?" If she heard him, she was not making it known.

Her legs were giving out underneath her and his heart broke as ugly, breathless sobs escaped her chest. He didn't know what had brought on this sudden attack, but he was no stranger to hidden demons, coming out to play at the worst of times. He pressed his head against the side of hers, taking in her intoxicating scent. She smelled like lavenders and the pavement after it rains. He held her tighter, nearly carrying her at this point and began to shush into her ear while rocking back and forth. It was what his mother had always done when she'd come in to calm him from his nightmares as a child. He'd never had a night it didn't work.

She took a deep breath and righted her feet as he loosened his grip to allow her to stand on her own. He looked down at her face, red and puffy from the tears she still had slowly making their way down her cheeks. Her chest was rising and falling as she struggled to regain control of her body. "Maybe you should sit down?" She looked around confused at his voice and then finally, seemed to notice his arms around her. She tensed and he quickly pulled away, sensing he had crossed a boundary. "You had a panic attack Granger, and you're still coming down from it. You should sit." He took her hand into his and led her to the couch where she immediately slumped down.

They sat in silence, him worriedly glancing at her, and her, looking anywhere but at him. After a solid ten minutes of nothing but the sound of the rain pattering softly against the window, she spoke. "I'm sorry about that."

"Sorry? What? Granger that's nothing to be sorry for!"

"I don't know what came over me, I'm truly sorry." She felt a blush highlight her cheeks; she detested showing weakness, especially over absolutely nothing. _She_ hadn't just lost her best friend. What right did she have to break down in the middle of a sentence?

"That damn Gryffindor pride of yours, I swear. There's nothing to be sorry about, everyone has bad nights."

"Oh because your pride is just miniscule right?" She smiled slightly.

"Well I don't know what you're talking about, I'm the most humble person I've ever met."

She snorted and shook her head, "You didn't have to do that you know."

"Don't worry about it. My way of making up for a few weeks ago." The memory of their argument came crashing down on her, she felt like she was drowning in the waves of it.

"Do you believe in that anymore? In what that word holds, in what your friends and family believe?" She sighed, "I felt that for sure you didn't, but then after your outburst, the spite that seeped from you voice…I didn't know what to think."

"No. No I don't believe in any of that shite, to be honest I'm not sure I ever did."

"Oh c'mon now, don't lie."

"It's true! You try having a father who will beat you the moment you show sympathy for anyone that isn't a pureblood, or the moment you come home with lower grades than the infuriatingly smart muggle born in your year." He smiled at her but she did not return it.

"Beat you?"

His stomach sank. What was it with this girl and him letting down all his bloody walls? What the fuck was wrong with him? First, he was practically hugging her and whispering in her ear and now he was delving into the sob story that was his past. Once he got a handle on the wandless magic he'd been practicing, his first mission would be to cast a silencing spell whenever she entered the room.

"it doesn't matter, Granger. Drop it."

"Doesn't matter?!" She tried standing in protest but he practically saw the black spots that entered her vision as she hastily sat again, "of course it matters! He's a monster!"

"It's just how it goes in pureblood households, traditionalism and all that."

"That's not tradition, it's abuse!"

"Look, we can't all have perfect dads who tuck us in at night and make us tea in the morning. We can't all be you, Granger." She felt as though she could physically see him building the brick wall around himself, protecting himself from feeling too much.

"I don't have perfect parents."

"Oh please, don't try to make me feel better. I'm sure they send you letters twice a week with their love. It's okay, I've accepted that I got the short straw when it came to a father. My mother made up for it, so don't you worry." He smirked but noticed she now held a faraway look in her eyes.

"I should go to sleep." Before he could blink, she was off the couch, "Goodnight Draco. Thank you for tonight." The door shut softly behind her as he continued to stare confused at the couch where her figure had just been. Perhaps the Golden Girl's life hadn't been as golden as he thought.

* * *

 **Ahh sorry I know this was a pretty sad chapter, but what can I say, I love angst lol thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far they make me want to write so much more! Please leave a review and let me know what you think so far! Thanks!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hi everyone! I had way too much fun writing this chapter, so I hope you like it. Review please!**

* * *

November all too quickly morphed into December, with longer nights and temperatures reaching record lows for Britain. Hermione found herself ducking behind a snow fort in the precious hours of sunlight they were stealing from the day. Ron giggled across the garden as Hannah leapt up from their hiding spot to whip another snowball towards Hermione's head. Her reflexes weren't quite as lucky this time and she felt a shock of cold hit the back of her neck.

Harry held his stomach from laughter as she danced across the snow-covered grass to tackle Ron into a heap on the pile of ammo he and Hannah had stored. Ginny took the opportunity to pelt her boyfriend's back with her mostly ice 'snow' balls. Hermione, Ron, and Hannah – who had now teamed up to form an unstoppable army – rushed to Ginny's aid and the Boy Who Lived was quickly rolling around on the ground laughing as he continually took snow to the face. They had placed charms on the garden so that no one truly felt wet from the snow melting upon contact. Hermione wondered why wizard-kind couldn't extend just one kindness to muggles and lend them the charm.

Fred and George, who had been too busy striking one another with snow now ran over to join in on the assault. All too quickly, Theo and Luna, Padma, and even Dean – who had been reserved for months – were sprinting outside, eager to feel the ecstasy the war had been ruthlessly stealing. Hermione felt like her cheeks would burst from the smile stretching across her face. After another hour of frozen toes and chapped lips, the entire group headed inside for some much needed hot cocoa. She couldn't help thinking, as they stepped into the house, it would have been an even happier day if a certain blonde had been beside her.

* * *

There were times he truly wished the bloody wards the Order put up to keep him in, also kept the surrounding sounds out. Her laugh bubbled up from the window and he felt drunk from its melody. The entire golden crew seemed to be having a battle to the death in the mound of snow he'd watched fall the night before. He imagined the way her friends must have been able to touch her, an arm around the shoulders, a playful nudge in the back, all effortless. He longed to reach through the window and wipe away the snow from her face, he was almost sure she would definitely be losing in a snowball fight between the rest of the youngest members of the Order.

She had spent every night for the past few weeks with him, in the library. He'd learned her favorite color was purple, yet she always seemed to be wearing something green. She had a sarcastic response neatly prepared for every retort he tried to throw and she slightly snored when she slept. Every new piece of information about her felt like he was sailing out farther and farther from the coast of familiarity, of comfort. Yet, instead of fear, exhilaration pumped through his veins with each new fact becoming precious cargo he stored away in his mind. In his more realistic moments he blamed it on Stockholm syndrome, but he felt a deep rumble in his conscience every time he tried to accept that accusation.

About an hour after the laughter had ceased, he heard her knock on the door and tried to squash the excitement building in his stomach. What had become of him?

"I brought you some hot cocoa, we were all drinking some after spending time out in the snow and I thought about how much you'd enjoy a cup too." She was beaming pure delight as she set down his lunch and the mug with steam rising out of its top. "We made some pancakes too so I brought those for your lunch, but I can get something else if you'd like?"

He was struggling not to smile at her flushed cheeks, wide smile, and bright eyes. She had brought up a large dish of syrup and butter to go with the pancakes and marshmallows dotted the top of the hot cocoa. He smiled despite himself and took the plate off of his side table. "No, these are perfect."

She made a contented hum and then marched over to the door that connected to the library. "I wanted to decorate the library a bit if you don't mind?"

"Decorate?"

"For Christmas! It's only two weeks away and it is my absolute favorite day of the year."

"I think I'll stay here with my pancakes, since I am at the unfortunate disadvantage of hanging garland with my hands and not with my wand." Her smile faltered for the briefest of moments at the mention of his wand before she turned back towards the library. He bit into one of the fluffiest pancakes he'd ever had while mentally filing away her favorite holiday into what had easily become the softest and most embarrassing part of his brain.

A few hours later she brought dinner and they both retreated to the library. This had become their routine, chatting and researching over full stomachs and peaceful attitudes. He didn't have the heart to tell her that once she fell asleep, and he covered her up with the throw blanket on the couch, it was not burn remedies and wards he read up on. It was wandless magic. Every night he practiced and every night he got slightly closer to perfecting the soothing charm on his dark mark. She had been finding better and more effective charms to help ease the pain, but so far he could only manage the one she'd originally tried that lasted an hour. A rough start, but a start nonetheless.

The betrayal seeped into his bones, making him feel heavy with guilt. But the possibility of seeing his mother and rescuing her, made it all worth it. Underneath twinkling fairy lights and Christmas wreath's, he flexed his arm again and again as the sensation of ice flowed through the burning of his mark.

Thanks to her charms, the skin had been able to heal, only showing itself as slightly red around the edges of the tattoo. She shifted on the couch where he had placed a blanket over her twenty minutes earlier. Her eyes fluttered in a dream and a soft snore sounded out of her throat. He smiled fondly even as the burning returned with the loss of his concentration.

She seemed to be getting visibly upset in her dream, with quiet moans now interrupting the snores. Upset – or possibly excited? He'd never been the most honest man in the world, but even he couldn't lie and deny the thoughts of her that had flowed through his mind. At first, he'd been disgusted and tried desperately to push them away. But as their nights in the library continued, so did the thoughts. And his eagerness to diminish them began to dwindle.

He felt the hair on his arms stand on end as she whispered out his name in her sleep. It didn't sound like the kind of dreams he'd had of her in the past few weeks, it sounded fond, it sounded like coming home. The guilt of his wandless magic now felt like an anchor, dragging him down into her depths.

She awoke at almost four in the morning, wrapped up in the blanket he always used to cover her. Snow was falling silently out the window and his chair was empty, but his light remained lit. She blushed at the memory of her dream, it had been innocent, merely cuddling between a couple. The embarrassing aspect was who the couple had been, who she had been fondly curled up next to. She hadn't meant to begin viewing him in a new light, especially after their spat in October. But the moment he'd talked her down from her panic attack, something had shifted in her resolve.

It had now reached the point that she looked forward to their nights in the library. Luna and Theo gave her knowing smiles every time she ascended the steps to his room, but she had been trying to ignore the know-it-all's. As much as she'd tried to avoid it, she felt drunk on the discovery of who Draco Malfoy was. The sweeter the food, the more he enjoyed it, and the gloomier the day, the happier he seemed to be. He took his tea with milk, no sugar, and he absentmindedly hummed tunes to himself when he thought she was already asleep.

As much as he had tried to hide it, she'd also caught on to his attempts at wandless magic. Attempts at Accio, and soothing charms that actually seemed to be working. Perhaps it was foolish, but she wasn't overly concerned seeing as the wards around his room ensured that whether a person was magical or not, they could not apparate away. Her heart felt slightly guilty at the fact that after having discovered his attempts, she had spoken to Harry about extending the wards throughout Grimmauld place. Now, only a small corner in the infirmary allowed visitors to apparate inside the house. She trusted him, she truly did, but her logic outweighed her feelings. Feelings she was still keen to avoid and deny.

What baffled her more than anything was what he intended to do with his magic. The more they spoke, the more clear it became that he did not want to return to Voldemort's side. He despised the man, and seemed unwilling to continue in the belief system the Death Eater's enforced. Her intuition told her that he was guided by his devotion to the people he cared most about, most likely his family. Every time she thought of his father she wanted to vomit or spit fire, possibly both. Perhaps if she could show him what it meant to have non-toxic people to surround yourself with?

A strangled groan came from his open door and she was immediately off the couch and running towards the darkness, wand in hand. He was laying on his bed with a large gash down his left arm.

"Oh, Draco!" She leapt on top of the bed and held his arm gently in her hands, "What did you do?"

Shame, resentment, and surprise painted themselves across his face. "I was just, it's nothing." He tried to pull him arm away from her, "I thought you were asleep."

"I woke up. What did you do?" She was already waving her wand across his arm and stitching up the gash. It was a superficial cut, but the blood had nearly emptied her stomach.

"It's none of your business." He was cold and closed off, inching away from her to the other side of the bed. She inched closer to him, unwilling to let go of his arm where the blood was being cleaned away by her wand.

"Oh don't pull that shit with me. I woke up to you bleeding out in your room from a cut that we both know wasn't made by a blade."

His eyes widened, "You know."

"Of course I know you bloody idiot! Remember the whole 'smartest witch of her age'?"

He drew the next conclusion before she had to confirm it, "You haven't told them?" He had stopped trying to pull his arm away from her, and without realizing, came closer to where she sat in the bed. He realized with sudden clarity that she trusted him, and again grasped that this was a feeling he had not felt in years. Trust. It shone out of her eyes in the dim moonlight from his window as he felt it settle into his stomach and make its home in his heart.

She moved her hand up from his arm to cup his cheek, "you should be allowed to soothe your own pain and summon your own possessions. You shouldn't be a prisoner." He sat up and grabbed at her arm, pulling her into him and against his chest. His scent filled her senses as she nuzzled into him, every logical part of her body screaming 'wrong' and yet she could not deny the blissful warmth that settled into her chest as his arms came to cradle her. It was the same heat she had felt weeks ago when he'd held her during her panic attack.

"Thank you." He breathed into her hair. All pretenses of logic and reality had thrown themselves out the window the moment he pulled her towards him. Was he really so desperate for human contact that he was encouraging her to nuzzle into his chest? Was that who he had become? Seven months with the Order was all it had taken to crack him. She looked up at him and for a moment he saw what they could be. And then he remembered his family, his friends, what he needed to get back to, who he needed to save.

"Well I'm all fixed up now Granger, I didn't cut my chest too. Don't know why you seem determined to search for some hidden treasure in there, didn't peg you as the gold digger type."

She swiftly pulled herself out of his arms, as though she had been burned. "I don't know how to break it to you Malfoy, but the war effort doesn't exactly bring in the big bucks." Her walls were back up and he saw it in the newfound tension in her shoulders. She jumped off the bed and made her way to the door, yawning "try not to kill yourself summoning your razor in the morning. I'd like to sleep in."

* * *

"No one should have to eat Christmas dinner alone."

"'Mione your heart is in the right place, but let's think realistically here." Ron looked at Hannah who was nodding in agreement with her boyfriend. Which Hermione didn't find entirely fair since the girl would probably follow him over a cliff and vice versa.

"He is NOT coming." Dean looked ready to burst at the end of the table.

"He's only going to cause problems, as much as I'd love to give him a chance, who has he proven himself to?" Theo remarked.

"He's proven himself to me."

"He called you a – well you know what he called you!" Padma roared.

"Yes I do have a vocabulary and a memory, thank you Padma." Hermione replied coolly.

"Has he even expressed interest in it?"

Hermione looked over at Harry who was trying desperately to be the mediator, "well, I hadn't asked him yet. I didn't want to get his hopes up for nothing."

"He _wants_ to?" Ginny raised a skeptical brow.

"Is no one remembering he killed Seamus?"

"He was forced to, we have been through this so many times it's not even funny, Dean."

"That doesn't make it okay though." Neville piped up.

"Forgiveness is a virtue, of which many of you severely lack." Luna shot a cold look towards the end of the table with Dean, Padma, and Neville.

"Look," Harry rubbed his temples in frustration, "we're the only ones who live here full time, so I think it's important we take this all to a vote because I don't want people to feel uncomfortable at their own Christmas dinner."

"Oh that's hardly fair," Hermione interjected, "Theo and I are the only ones who even regularly talk to him. Of course no one else is going to vote in his favor. He hasn't left that room since August. August! This is ridiculous. We don't even question him anymore, the least we can do is extend a courtesy on a day of love, celebration, and forgiveness."

"She has a point." Hannah agreed. Ron slightly nodded his head in support.

"Our courtesy was sparing his life."

"Careful Dean, next time you look in the mirror I'm not sure if you'll recognize yourself." Theo snapped. "We claim not to be the monsters, and I think the best way to live up to that is to show hospitality. Not saying it'll go well, he can be a sarcastic git, but at the end of the day, Hermione is right."

"The majority of the Order is coming here for Christmas dinner too, you think they're going to be fine with this?" Ginny posed a genuine concern. "I hate the guy, but as Hermione pointed out, I don't really know him. So I understand giving him a chance. But I want you to picture my dad, who despises the Malfoy's, sitting down and eating a meal with Draco Malfoy."

"Well, I mean the younger members usually eat separately anyways." Harry shrugged.

"I say he joins." Luna smiled brightly, "Hermione mentioned the wards had been extended anyways, so there really isn't any harm done."

"You've all lost your fucking minds." Dean threw his hands up in defeat and angrily strode out of the room, whipping the door shut behind him. Padma gave a sympathetic look around at her friends before following him out, in a much quieter fashion.

"So I guess it's settled," Harry clapped his hands together, "Hermione, he better be polite."

"I can almost assure he won't be." Theo laughed.

"Great."

* * *

"If you don't want it, I understand. But well, it's Christmas and everyone deserves a present on Christmas." The cloth she held out to him felt like silk, but had the look of cotton. He was at a genuine loss for words, every version of 'thank you' feeling too insignificant. Hermione had woken him up Christmas morning with his breakfast and a neatly wrapped present. Upon opening it, he found a forest green cloth that she embedded with the charm to soothe his burning mark.

"Granger." He took the cloth from her hand, "Thank you. Truly, this is amazing."

She smiled faintly while helping him wrap it around his arm. Instant relief flooded his face as he let out a low breath. "I have another gift as well. Kind of."

"What is it?"

"You get to join us at Christmas dinner." Her smile held anxiety as he began to frown.

"Christmas dinner? With the Order of the Phoenix? Me? Draco Malfoy?" The more he considered it, the more ridiculous it sounded. A surprised laugh burst from his stomach and once he started, he couldn't stop. He was nearly moved to tears as she tried to speak over him to no avail.

"It will only be with the younger members, we usually sit separately anyways because the main table can't fit everyone."

"Oh yeah, cause they're such fans of me."

"They've already agreed. We discussed it a few days ago."

Something about the fact that he had been discussed without him knowing the wiser made him uncomfortable. He knew how that Dean kid felt about him, and to be fair, he didn't blame him. "Why do you want me there Granger? They all hate me, and to be honest I'm not exactly their biggest fan either."

"That's because you don't know them, and they don't know you. You're all so hell bent on these old school rivalries and sides of war that you haven't taken the time to consider that where your differences end, there are even more similarities." She looked at her feet, "And I want you there. I…I like it when you're around."

He raised a brow in surprise. The honesty hadn't been expected in the slightest, but it made the side of him that got drunk off of her laughter roar in approval. "Well it would be nice to leave this room, I suppose."

Her face was beaming as she jumped to hug him. Before his logic could protest, his hands were engulfing her and his face was pressed into her hair. It was intoxicating, touching her. "This will be great! I can come up to get you once everything is ready!"

"I am not making small talk with them, just so we're clear."

"Are you going to talk at all?"

"Well I'll gladly offer up an insult or two, it'll go swimmingly." She rolled her eyes as she pulled away from him and walked out the door.

* * *

The playful chatter in the sitting room ceased as soon as his foot stepped into the doorway. Potter sat at the head of the table, with the two youngest Weasley's on either side of him. To his surprise, Theo sat next to Ginny and was holding hands with Luna. A girl he somewhat recognized from Hogwarts sat beside Ron.

Dean pushed himself up from the table and he stared daggers at Draco, "Excuse me. I think I'm going to be sick."

"Aw poor Thomas, didn't anyone tell you not to overdo it with the Christmas cookies? They're supposed to be for Santa." Pure ice slipped off of Draco's tongue as he locked eyes with Dean. The latter stepped forward but Padma put an arm up and dragged him out of the room. Hermione sighed behind him and Theo put his head in his hands.

"Well this should be a fun meal." Harry said awkwardly, "Please Malfoy, take a seat."

"Draco, you can sit next to me and Luna." Hermione grabbed his arm and gently guided him towards his seat. The use of his first name and the fact she was touching him was not lost on the rest of the table. Ginny's face turned a deep shade of red and Ron's jaw slightly dropped. Theo and Luna were smirking behind their napkins, exchanging a knowing glance.

After they'd settled at the table and began eating, Hermione did everything in her power to stimulate conversation. Eventually, it began to flow, but it felt like he was a rock in the middle of a river, everything flowed all while going around him. The only time he spoke was when she addressed him. Finally, Potter looked directly at him.

"So Malfoy, have you always enjoyed Christmas? I know I can't get Hermione to shut up about it." The rest of the table laughed as Hermione shrugged her arms in agreement.

"I'm not a big holiday person myself."

"Why is that?" Harry looked genuinely confused as Draco met Theo's eyes. Theo knew what Draco's childhood consisted of. He knew damn well that while every other kid got presents and love on holidays, he hid in his room listening to his parents fight. He received presents, but usually only had the house elves for company while he opened them. Later in the evening, his mother would always join him, smiling through the tears and fresh bruises, peppering kisses on his head even as he got older and tried to protest them.

"When you already have more money than half of England, they become a bit unnecessary don't you think?" He smirked to hide the memories playing in his eyes. Both Ron and Ginny irritably scowled.

"I've always thought the best part of a holiday was spending it with the people you love." Hermione commented. Draco shrugged and caught a look of sadness from her. He struggled not to roll his eyes, the last thing he needed was pity.

"Well, I'm very glad you've joined us tonight Draco," Luna smiled at him, "I hope we can show you what holiday's mean to us." He was oddly touched by her sentiment and for once, did not have a sarcastic retort. He nodded silently and the conversation once again began to flow – this time washing over him in waves throughout the night.

It was the most he had ever heard Hermione laugh, whether it was from a joke Ron made or a story Harry brought up, she was the picture of joy. And it looked marvelous on her. He caught himself almost staring at her as she spoke animatedly with her friends, the anxiety he'd seen all too often in her posture was absent. It didn't hurt that every time someone addressed him, she grasped his hand in silent support. Her touch kept his sarcasm at bay, only letting it slip every other time he spoke.

She wasn't the only one though, every person at the table was blissful. Second and third helpings were passed around, anecdotes and inside jokes weaved their way into every conversation, and warmth spread from the fireplace in the corner all the way into his chest. Perhaps this was what it felt like to be in a family. A real, genuine family. It terrified him to realize he suddenly understood why Theo had become a turncoat all that time ago. One taste of this, anyone was bound to get addicted.

* * *

"I'm so glad you came with. I think it went well." Hermione was closing his door behind them as she set his leftover dessert onto his desk.

"Well no one tried to kill me, so that's a start."

"I wouldn't count out Dean just yet." It was a morbid statement and yet they both laughed. "You didn't have to be a git to him."

"Ahh Granger, one day you will realize that my retorts are one of my finest qualities."

She chuckled and headed for the library as he eagerly followed. He'd been practicing his wandless magic all day after she'd left him that morning. And he was finally willing to test his luck. "I got you a very small present."

Her hair whipped around as she turned in shock to look at him. "What? No. I don't need anything, you didn't have to get me anything."

"Well to be honest, I hadn't planned on it. But then you gave me that cloth this morning and I wanted to show my gratitude. Close your eyes."

She eyed him suspiciously before obeying and closing them, a soft smile still playing on her lips. With all of the strength he could muster, he pictured a winter wonderland. Christmas decorations and snow men and evergreen trees began to appear all around them. His breath fanned out visibly in front of his face as small snowflakes began to fall. She opened her eyes as one melted onto her nose and her face became a memory he would forever hold onto. She spun in wonder to look around at the library, which had been transformed into the most blatant display of Christmas he'd ever seen.

"I know it's nothing compared to what you did, I don't have much to work with since I'm kind of being held captive and all that. But I looked up some spells this afternoon. It'll only last an hour." She was still ogling the surroundings and had yet to answer him. "But so help me god Granger if you try and throw any of this bloody snow at me, it will be a fight to the death."

A giggle tore through her as she flung herself at him in a tight hug. "It's beautiful. It's perfect." He smiled down at her, and just like that night two weeks ago, he imagined what they could be. He saw passion and happiness and sincere care in her eyes. He saw what could be the best or worst thing to have ever happened to him, he was still unsure which it was.

She stared right back at him and pressed her body against his as he cupped her cheek. Snowflakes fell between them and dusted her lashes. "Draco." She whispered his name, the same way she had in the many dreams and thoughts he'd had of her in the past month or so.

"Ah hell." He whispered back. Reality be damned. He closed the distance between them and pressed his lips against hers, a surprised gasp filling his mouth. He'd brought the temperature of the room down to match the snow, but his body was on fire. It felt like every snowflake was melting around him, it felt like pure bliss.

* * *

 **Ahhhh I've been waiting to write this part for so long. Sorry for the slight tease at the end. I really hope people like this chapter, please please review and give me feedback! They make me so happy to read. Thanks!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hope you like this, sorry it's kinda short! Please review and let me know what you think (:**

* * *

His hand was pressed into the small of her back, bring her closer, closer. He nibbled at her bottom lip and she let out a small moan. He throatily groaned in return and brought his other hand up to cradle her jaw. She was kissing Draco Malfoy. Full on snogging, actually. And he was kissing her back, in fact, he'd started it. Her head was swimming, tsunami's of emotions crashing over and over against the shores. A wave of memories, carrying the word 'mudblood' that had escaped his lips drowned her and she hastily pulled away.

"Draco."

"Hermione." He wore an amused smile, his lips red from having just been pressed against hers. The snow continued to fall between them, it blended into his hair, which her hands were aching to run themselves through. Instead, she reached up to touch her lips, they were still tingling, remembering the way it had felt to have been against his.

"I should go."

"No. You shouldn't." He sighed and licked his lips, "But you're Hermione Granger. And I can already see the overthinking machine that is your brain going haywire. So I'm going to bed." The snow ceased with his final words and the temperature immediately returned to normal. She found herself disappointed more so in his words than the changes to the room. Was she that predictable?

He began to turn away from her but she grabbed his arm and pulled him back, so that her body was once against pressed against his. "Wait." She whispered.

"You know when I said I was going to bed, it wasn't technically an invitation…but I could oblige."

She laughed, eyes beaming into his own. "You're an arse Draco Malfoy."

"And?" He chuckled, his body vibrating against hers.

"And thank you for such a lovely Christmas." She stepped on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek, "Goodnight." With a slight blush on her cheeks, she turned from him, as her held her hand until she was out of reach, fingers grasping until there was nothing left but air.

The door shut quietly behind her and he felt himself take the first breath he could recall inhaling since he'd first met her lips. Every part of his body felt light, as though he had stood up too quickly and his head needed a moment to readjust to his surroundings. Perhaps, this wasn't so different.

He waited for the regret to settle into his stomach, but all that remained was wanting. Wanting to be close to her once more, to hear her laugh at something he'd said and then look into his eyes. He rubbed the back of his neck and began to walk over to his bed, wondering why she had broken it off before it had a chance to begin. The faces of the Order members whenever they looked at him, the feeling of potion being forced down his throat, the sound of Hermione telling him one of his best friends was dead, the taste of blood in his mouth from having bit down on his tongue in a desperate attempt to protect his friends and family, it all whirled through his memories. What had he been thinking?

* * *

Pounding on her door woke her far before she was ready. "Hermione! Come downstairs." Ginny's excited voice floated through the crack underneath the door. It wasn't often that any of them had something to be excited about at 7 in the morning. She had to admit, her interest was piqued.

Enthusiasm rippled over the kitchen as Hermione tiredly plopped down into one of the available seats. "It's the day after Christmas, isn't it a general rule to sleep in?"

"Who made you so cranky?" Hannah laughed lightheartedly, unaware just how little sleep Hermione had gotten due to the previous night. Goosebumps rose on her arms at the memory of how Draco's lips had felt against her own. Why had she pulled away again? In her sleepy morning haze, she was struggling to understand her own logic.

"Guess what Harry got me for Christmas!" Ginny's booming voice brought Hermione back into the present. Something told her whatever Harry had gotten for his girlfriend was the reason she'd been dragged down to the kitchen for a breakfast two hours earlier than she wanted.

"What did he get you?"

"A trip to southern France!" She took Hermione's hands into her own and pulled her up from the table to do a dance around the kitchen as she sang the rest, "just us girls! It's going to be you, me, Hannah, Luna, and Padma!"

Hermione raised a brow, "Is now really the time to be leaving the Order for a holiday?"

"It's only one weekend party pooper." Ginny feigned annoyance but the smile could not be wiped from her face. "We're going in three weeks!"

When Hermione still failed to join in on the dancing that now every girl in the room was taking part in, Harry and Ron each placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You deserve a break 'Mione." Ron said. "It's only two days away, it won't hurt anyone."

"And don't even start coming up with possibilities of things that could go wrong if you're not here." Harry had put up a finger to cut off Hermione who had been about to protest, "McGonagall, Kingsley, and Mad Eye all agreed to stay at headquarters that weekend to make sure we are still fully protected."

"What about Draco?" Her stomach swooped as she spoke his name. She found herself craving his touch once more.

"Him and I are going to be best buddies all that weekend, it'll be a joy." Sarcasm dripped off of Theo's tongue. "Speaking of our lovely guest," Theo grabbed Hermione's hand, "Can I speak to you Hermione?"

Nerves pressed onto her chest as she followed Theo out into the sitting room. "What is it Theo?" She hadn't meant for her voice to slightly shake, she felt like a child who had been caught in a lie.

"It's about yesterday, I don't think it was entirely fair for you to have him at our dinner."

Relief and annoyance simultaneously blew themselves through her lungs, she hadn't realized she was holding her breath, "What do you mean? He's a person and deserves to be treated as such."

"Look Hermione, it's clear as fucking day you two have some unexplored flirtation or feelings going on here." She opened her mouth to protest but he quickly cut her off, "So I understand why you invited him."

If only he knew how explored the feelings had been less than 12 hours earlier. She was startled to find she hadn't disagreed with the feelings aspect, only the unexplored. "I did not invite him because of feelings I have for him."

Theo's eyes gleamed with triumph at her failure to deny her emotions, "You did. But, that's not the point. The point is that no one else in this house besides myself knows him. They know he had a hand in killing people they love, has been loyal to the dark side of the war as long as he's lived, and is rude with every other sentence he speaks."

"He's been through a lot, and didn't have a choice with killing those people. We're not innocent either."

He sighed, "I didn't say we were innocent. But we aren't following a prejudiced mass murderer and we don't aim to kill every person we duel. We are different, as much as Draco seems to be clinging to his ideology that every person on this planet is evil."

"I agree with you there."

"I mean, I'd be a tad concerned if you didn't." He chuckled, "But consider how you would feel if someone killed Ron and then Luna tried to invite them to your Christmas dinner. The way Dean reacted wasn't fair, especially because it's been made damn clear Draco didn't have a choice and this war has turned all of us into fucking demons, but at the core of it, there was no need to upset everyone during their holiday."

"Everyone was upset?" She suddenly felt horrendous guilt, "I didn't mean to ruin Christmas. I just wanted people to be a bit more accepting and see the man I've gotten to know. He doesn't have anyone, Theo. The people he has, they're awful."

"To be fair, I think he'd say the same about the people in your life. And before you argue, please try to remember for one moment what a git that man can be." She snorted in agreement as he continued, "I agree people should get to know who he is and the kind of man he can be. But that man, it comes out in flashes Hermione. It's buried beneath trauma and prejudiced ideals and war."

"Because he puts on a ridiculous front for you, you haven't seen the way he acts when it's just me."

"Yes, but until he gets past his shit, no one else will see it either. And that man you see, well if only you see him, is he truly real? I'm not trying to attack you love, I understand where you're coming from. I mean he used to be like my brother. And I still see those flashes too, I see who he can be. But, you have to give the others time to come to those conclusions too, to see the flashes for themselves, instead of just blinking away the light."

"Luna seemed open to having him there. I mean, as far as things go, it could have gone a lot worse. It was mostly polite."

"God your Gryffindor pride still has such a strong streak." Theo grinned, "I agree with all of those statements. Just try to see it from the side that isn't lusting after the person in question."

"Lusting!" She barked, outraged.

"You heard me love." Theo patted her on the back as he left her spluttering after him, still not fully ready to accept the truth in his words.

* * *

He spent the entire morning in the library, researching anti-apparation wards. It turned out to be an excellent distraction from a certain brunette who kept trying to shove her way into his thoughts. It had occurred to him that now that he could use wandless magic, he could summon his house elf. He was almost giddy at the idea, for his desperate escape. But as much as he called out to her, she never came. It made little sense, but not much did these days. His wandless magic had greatly improved; he had even managed to successfully summon each book from the library to his bed in his room. It was as a fourth book zoomed into his hands that he heard her knock on the door.

"Hi Draco." She was worrying her bottom lips as she set down waffles next to the bed and sat by his feet. "Can we talk?"

"I get it Granger. It was a bad idea, blah blah blah, we come from different sides of a war and it'd never work, blah blah, our friends and families hate one another and you're an overthinking prude while I'm a damaged git so you can save the pity speech."

Her tone got dangerously low, "For one. I am not a prude, and even if I was, there is nothing wrong with that so stop being a sexist asshole. For two. My friends do not hate you, they just don't know you. And for three. All I was going to do was apologize for bringing you to Christmas dinner when you were clearly uncomfortable with the idea. So you can rest easy Malfoy, the pity speech has been saved."

"Typical hero Gryffindors, going around having to save everything." He smirked at the joke, but she was not amused.

"You are astoundingly infuriating." She put her hands on her hips as she stood from the bed, "Look. We were both emotional from Christmas and you've been locked in here with only me for company, it makes sense we lost our senses for a moment. Let's just move on from last night."

"Emotional from Christmas?" He was holding back laughter as he raised his brow, "Granger I could give two fucks about Christmas. That was all you."

"Well then why the hell would you decorate the entire library for it then?"

"Once again. All you." What was it with her bringing out his honesty when he least wanted to use it? Her lips remained parted in surprise at his words as she struggled for a response and so he continued, "But like I said. It was a bad idea. Not the gift part, it was the least I could do after the present you gave me. But the rest, it was a bad idea." The research on wards that he'd done, his increased accuracy with his wandless magic, and the image of his mother smiling at him as he returned to her soared across his mind, "So as you said, let's just move on."

She had been the first to say it, but hearing the words from him, seeing him eager to move past the previous night, she felt like her legs were cement slowly melting into the ground. More than anything, she wanted to close the distance between them and feel his arms around her once more. With great difficulty she went to leave his room, "Enjoy your breakfast Malfoy."

* * *

Theo came in for his breakfast as he quickly stowed the books about wandless magic beneath his pillow. It had been nearly a week since he and Hermione had kissed and if he was correctly keeping track, it was New Years Eve.

"Hermione needed to plan something with the girls, so I offered to bring up your food."

"You're such a giver Theo. Truly selfless."

"Whatever Draco, I'll be back in a few hours for your lunch." He opened the door halfway and then poked his head back around, "Oh and whatever you said or did to Hermione, can you knock it off? That girl does not deserve whatever mind games you're inevitably playing."

Draco was thrown for a loop; he hadn't realized anything was out of the ordinary. Curse that girl's skills for legilimency, he always struggled to get a reading on how she was feeling. Theo however, pure annoyance and frustration rippled off of him in waves every time he entered Draco's room. Sadness was usually mixed in, but the blonde tried his best to ignore that part. He suspected he was the cause for it and wasn't nearly prepared to dive into that black hole.

"Mind games?" He questioned.

"Oh for the love of god Draco don't play dumb, the girl has been blushing every time your name is mentioned, and she's been quiet, hasn't gotten involved in a single argument or debate in a week." He walked away from the door and settled himself at the chair of Draco's desk, "now I don't know if you knew this, but Hermione Granger tends to pounce on arguments, she tends to be the one winning them too, not the one on the sidelines." He held up his hands in defeat, "So what the fuck did you do to her?"

"What makes you think this has anything to do with me? Maybe Granger is just having a bad week, fuck if I know." The butterflies that seemed to have taken up permanent residence in Draco's stomach were roaring in triumph upon hearing about her reaction to hearing his name. However, the unwelcome attachment he was trying his best to ignore was less than thrilled about the change to her fiery personality.

"I don't know when the two of you are going to realize I am not as oblivious as the rest of this house." Theo chuckled, "Neither is Luna, by the way. She's just nicer than I am."

"Fine it's true. Granger and I. We've started a book club and we've just really been trying to keep to private. But god dammit Theo I guess you can join."

"And I suspect this book club involves snogging? Because I may be less eager to join if so." Draco cursed how well Theo still seemed to know him. Two years absent from one another's lives had not been enough to wipe away the history they had built.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Nott."

Theo's brows rose in amusement, "Ah, there it is." He stood from the chair; "I'll see you in a few hours, Malfoy." Draco swore as soon as the door had shut. If he didn't learn how to handle himself when it came to this blasted girl, he may as well take his legilimency and throw it off a fucking cliff. What good were his mental walls when his idiotic self spelled his emotions clear as day in the words he spoke? He sighed in defeat and went to return to his research.

By the time Theo had returned, he'd moved into the library and onto books regarding magical wards. His eyes were beginning to grow tired at the amount of pages he'd read and he attempted to focus them on his surroundings. The other armchair that used to so often house Hermione now looked empty, it's navy blue fabric worn from years of use. The bookshelves rose around him like a barricade, almost every one of them reaching the ceiling. They broke only for the window from which he consistently found himself gazing out of when the inevitable nightmares would wake him. His eyes glazed over the ancient wooden floor, semi covered by a dusty rug, and onto Theo, standing in the doorway between the library and his room.

"What're you researching?"

Draco considered lying, using his wandless magic to hide the title of his book and brush off the man who he once saw as a brother. He wasn't quite sure why he answered truthfully. "Magical wards."

At once, Theo looked suspicious, "What for?"

"I'm trying to determine how my mother allowed me to escape when I was being tortured. The wards were in put into place by Voldemort himself." The honesty continued.

The apprehension faded from Theo's features, his brown eyes now filled with concern as he walked over to sit in Hermione's chair. "She took down the wards all by herself?"

"She had to of, it was only her and my father in the house. I think we both know my father wouldn't have been eager to help." Draco chuckled humorlessly, "I've been trying to figure out how she did it."

"Why are you so desperate to know?"

"Do you see much else for me to do in this place?" Draco responded coolly, "it's a nice distraction from this," he held up his arm where Hermione's cloth was wrapped around his mark, "and it'd be nice to know if my mother did something that could get her killed."

Theo's eyes hadn't left the cloth on Draco's arm, "Who gave you that?"

"Who do you think?"

"Draco, you can't do this. She's going to get hurt." His jaw was clenched, as though he was biting his tongue.

"There is no 'this.' And even so, she's a big girl, she doesn't need the Order's protection from every little decision she makes."

"You don't know the full story of what she has been through."

"Oh then do enlighten me dear Theo. Story time."

"You don't have to be such a git, you know that right?" Draco opened his mouth to respond but then seemed to think better of it and returned to his book. Theo sighed and sat back in his chair, "Why are you so sure your mother could get herself killed?" He changed the subject.

"She defied orders from the Dark Lord. I know it's been a while for you, but do try to remember. He isn't the most understanding man. If he discovered who released his wards, he'd kill them." Rage rushed into Draco's lungs as if he'd swallowed fire as he continued, "But you see, I can't check to see if my own fucking mother is alive or not because the side that claims to be sent from the god damn heavens above won't let me leave their precious headquarters. So instead, I get to repeatedly research wards and pretend my own flesh and blood is just fine and dandy. Thanks for that, truly I owe you all a big hug."

"Draco it isn't that easy and you know it." Theo said, "if you were to leave you'd become a secret keeper for the order. You'd be able to tell the Death Eater's and Voldemort where Harry Potter is located, what our battle strategies are, who lives at headquarters and who doesn't. It's too dangerous."

"Your faith in me is endearing." Draco sneered, "Do you truly believe I would sell you all out to that psychopath?"

"Whatever ends the war, isn't that right?" Theo imitated Draco's statement he'd made months ago.

"It isn't like that. Not anymore." The blonde very nearly blushed from his statement, his pale skin only slightly darkening.

Theo snorted, "What because of her?" He gestured at the doorway leading to the hall, "You called her something I won't even repeat like three months ago. You agitated Dean at his own Christmas dinner; you're the man who killed his best fucking friend. And you've been playing for the dark side since you took your first breath. Excuse me if I don't place complete trust in you."

"How the fuck is that fair? You were breathing my same air two years ago Theo, don't act as though you're an angel. You know as well as I do that I had no fucking choice when it came to Finnegan and if I have to apologize for that one more god damn time I'm going to combust." He stood from his chair, agitation working it's way through his tensed shoulders, "I would never hurt her." Shock flew through his veins as he realized the undeniable truth to his words. He would never hurt her, he'd sooner put himself in harms way than her. The blasted butterflies were having a field day, fluttering up from his stomach and into his chest.

"I'm sorry it's like this Draco." His voice quiet, "I will speak to Harry about sending a spy to see how your family is doing." He made to leave the room and then smirked, "I'll see you next year." Draco rolled his eyes. Trust Theo to make some shitty joke despite the mood of the room.

"Fuck off Nott." The malice was absent from his voice. It was a step.

* * *

It was ten minutes to midnight; he'd conjured himself a clock after Theo had left. The frayed ends of his bedspread caught his attention as he tried to conjure scissors. His door burst open and made him lose his focus. Hermione was standing in the hallway, she was wearing a red dress that hit just above her knees and hugged her curves. His mouth went dry at the sight of her, but she hadn't seemed to notice the effect she was having on him.

"Hi…Draco." Her speech was slightly slowed and she nearly tripped into his room. She was completely and utterly wasted.

He struggled to hold back an amused smile, "Granger. You're drunk."

She giggled in response and tripped into his arms. "They bet I couldn't keep up with Ginny…but…but I did. Every. Single. Shot." Her hands were grasping his arms for support and he led her to the library couch and sat her down. He ran to get a glass of water from his bathroom and sat down on the couch next to her.

"Alright Granger, drink some of this water."

She shook her head furiously, "I don't want any water."

"Well, what do you want?"

"You."

His mouth hung open at her response, his brain was desperately trying to come up with a response. She hadn't seemed to realize what she'd just said as she was currently poking his skin on his shoulder, amused at the way it turned slightly red from her touch.

"Does anyone know you're up here?" The last thing he wanted was for her to need more help and him unable to call out to anyone, quarantined onto a floor no one else inhabited.

"They think I went to sleep. But I bet Harry will check on me soon enough." She shrugged and began laughing hysterically at the idea of her best friend finding her bed empty. Once she'd calmed down, she continued, "but it wasn't even midnight yet."

He glanced to the clock and saw it was now two minutes until midnight, "Clearly keeping up with the weaslette was not as easy as you imagined." She settled her head onto his shoulder and he found himself running a hand through her hair, "who would have thought Hermione Granger would be too stubborn to admit she was wrong?" Sarcasm drowning his words.

"I don't know what you're talking about…I…I kept up!" Her voice had raised an octave in her own defense and he hated himself for finding it endearing instead of annoying.

"Oh of course you did." One minute to midnight.

"I just wanted to see you, then I'll go back down to bed."

"Why did you want to see me?" His voice was low, the answer to his own question clear in the molten gray of his eyes.

"Happy New Year, Draco." Midnight.

* * *

 **Ahh sorry this is kind of a filler chapter...had a lot of stressful deadlines and an insane week so I couldn't write as much as I would have liked to. I did have fun writing this though, I hope you like it! Please please review, they really make my day and when I don't get a lot I get discouraged from writing as much. I just love to hear any kind of feedback! Thanks!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Sorry for the wait, here's chapter 9! Please review!**

* * *

It felt as though someone had attempted to hit her over the head with a brick. Her eyes were glued together, with great difficulty she pried them open to gaze out at the familiar surroundings of the library. Confusion crinkled her brow as her vision cleared and landed on Draco asleep on his armchair. Judging by the soft light pouring in from the window, it was early morning. A worried shout drifted from the house below and as her ears tried to remember they were awake, she realized that it was her name being called. That would explain why she was awake far before she wanted to be. The library door burst open to reveal an anxiety ridden Harry.

Relief seemed to drown his features, "Oh thank Merlin." He turned away from the door to shout down the stairs, "It's alright Ginny, I found her!"

"Found me?" Her voice was hoarse and barely louder than a whisper. Draco was stirring in the seat beside her, clear annoyance at having been woken.

"We put you to bed at 11:30 last night, but when I came in like 15 minutes ago to check on you, your bed was empty." He sounded slightly out of breath, "We were worried, you were pretty drunk and so were we, we wanted to make sure you were okay." Harry suddenly seemed to realize who else was in the room with them, most likely due to the death-inducing glare shining out of Draco's steely eyes.

"Good morning Potter. What a pleasure to see you first thing when I wake up, the stuff of dreams really." Draco slightly grunted as he got out of his chair and walked towards his room "if you two wouldn't mind having this lovely chat somewhere else, I still have some beauty sleep I'd like to get in before breakfast."

Hermione attempted to rise from the couch, but was hit with a wave of nausea and the sound of her heart pounding in her ears. Perhaps it was just that brick she could have sworn someone had attacked her with…but as the memories of the night before began to filter through her consciousness, she had a sinking feeling it was merely the 6th shot of tequila she had taken.

"Hermione…" Harry began cautiously, "why don't I help you up?" She could hear Draco laughing from his room and mentally threw a middle finger in his direction.

"I'm fine." She snapped. Except the world was currently tilting and the back of her tongue definitely still tasted like lime and salt. Harry grabbed her hands and delicately pulled her up from the couch. She leaned into his arms before bolting into Draco's bathroom and emptying the contents of her stomach into the toilet. All things considered, she thought it was impressive she hadn't given anyone a reason to clean the floor.

"Granger." Slight concern watered down Draco's voice behind her. She could sense both men standing in the doorway and her cheeks burned in embarrassment.

"I'm – fine." Another round of nausea sent her back to the toilet, "please go. I will be up in a moment."

"I'm not leaving you here in this bathroom." Harry sounded indignant.

"Potter, if she wants to be left alone, then leave her alone." She silently thanked every god known to man for Draco at that moment. The last thing she needed was an audience to her hangover. "She's a big girl. If she can't handle it, she'll let someone know." The door closed quietly behind her, muffling the sounds of Harry arguing with Draco. All she could focus on however was casting a quick silencing charm before her stomach protested once more.

* * *

She finally joined the rest of her friends downstairs later that day, with an icepack Draco had conjured pressed up against her head.

"Well how kind of you to join us, Hermione." Ginny was smirking from her spot at the kitchen table where she was playing a card game with Hannah.

"How are you not dead right now?" She replied irritably.

"We all warned you not to try and keep up with her." Ron laughed as he walked up behind her with Harry following behind. Harry however, did not seem as entertained as the rest of the room.

"'Mione?" He gently grabbed her elbow, "Can I talk to you?"

"Sure Harry." Had everyone else been able to hear the obvious insincerity to her voice? The nervous shaking of her last syllable? They went into the tapestry room, which now housed beds for Order members who needed to stay the night.

Harry sat on a bed near the window and she joined him. He opened his mouth to speak three times before finally addressing her. "How did you end up in the library with Malfoy, Hermione?"

"Well to be honest Harry, I was a tad inebriated so I'm not sure I'm the best person to be asking about this. Did you try asking Draco?"

He slightly flinched at her use of his first name and dread settled over her heart like a raincloud as it dawned on her that Theo and Luna might no longer be the only ones onto her secret. "See, I tried asking him about it. But all I got were sarcastic comments and nearly kicked out of the door. And I very distinctly remember putting you to bed in your own room last night."

She sighed as she weighed the options of lying or finally telling her best friend the truth that had sprouted in her heart for the past eight months. "I…I went up there after you left my room." She tried to avoid his gaze but the genuine concern that flowed out of his brilliantly green eyes forced the truth past her lips, "because I have feelings for him."

Harry grasped the bridge of his nose, his hair falling over his forehead masking his all too famous scar. "Oh Hermione…"

"I'm not going to sit here and explain myself."

"I wasn't going to ask you to," he looked up at her, "but I really can't express how bad of an idea I think this is."

"You think I meant for this to happen?" She said incredulously.

"Well no…" he trailed off, "I just…I guess I'm not surprised."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Fire flipped off her tongue.

"You tend to fall for the less fortunate, the broken ones."

"He isn't broken." Anger was like a dragon flying through her entire system. "You don't even know him."

"Do you?" He tried to hold her hand in his but she pulled away, "or do you just know his sob story? His failings and his achievements and his regrets? Look 'Mione, I love you and I think you're the smartest bloody person I have ever met, but you have a soft spot for sad stories and for fixing things."

"I don't like him because he has a traumatic past Harry." She spat, "He's not a house elf I'm trying to free with some knit hat. He makes me laugh, challenges my view on everything I've ever known, makes my blood boil and then three seconds later makes me smile. He makes me feel alive."

"Oh c'mon Hermione, this isn't a Jane Austen novel."

"Harry I don't think you've ever even held a Jane Austen novel in your hands, so please don't start with me." She rolled her eyes, "Nothing is going to happen anyways. It would be idiotic to think it could work. So you have nothing to worry about." She stood from the bed and faced away from him, "It was a moment of drunken poor judgment and I'd like to stop discussing it now." She was too infuriated to realize it had been the first time she'd audibly confessed to her feelings for Draco, the first time she'd tried to put into words what had been brewing inside of her for months. The truth of her emotions, of how she had described him to Harry, scared her more than she cared to admit.

"Hermione get in here! We're finishing up lunch and Neville made that soup you like!" Ginny's voice distantly called from the other side of the house, oblivious to what she had just interrupted.

"Please just be careful, yeah?" Harry gave her a hug and left the tapestry room before she had a chance to assure him there was nothing to be careful about in the first place.

* * *

His arm was bleeding. And his idiotic wandless magic seemed to think now was a perfect time to be difficult. With sweat accumulating on his brow, he finally patched up the slice down his skin. Despite the pain of the cut, adrenaline and triumph pumped through his veins. He'd apparated from his bed to his chair in the library. A small feat that made him taste hope on the tip of his tongue.

It had been over two weeks since Granger had ended up in his room, kissing him as the year turned anew. Over two weeks since he'd sat outside his bathroom door, willing himself to grant her the privacy she so desperately had demanded. Over two weeks since he'd conjured nausea medicine and an ice pack from the infirmary downstairs and forced her to use them.

Neither had mentioned the events of New Years, but he found himself dreaming of the feel of her lips nearly every night. Despite his body's inability to forget her taste, he had a sinking feeling she didn't quite remember what had transpired that night. He'd stopped the kiss almost as soon as it had started, rebelled against the butterflies that had turned into a greedy monster in his abdomen. They wanted more of her, he wanted more, more.

He was many things, but he would not force himself on a woman. Not when she was so drunk she didn't know what she was doing, not when the only way she'd allowed herself to kiss him was with every one of her walls dismantled by tequila. Well, all but one wall. He was ashamed to admit he'd briefly attempted legilimency on her, but damn if that witch wasn't nearly as skilled in the magic of the mind as he was. He'd gotten a flash of his face, before the fortress of her mind had angrily kicked him out. If he couldn't get a reading on her, he wondered if even Voldemort would struggle to break her down. The thought of Voldemort within a fifty-mile radius of her however made his stomach twist so violently he was nearly ill.

"Draco?" Theo poked his head in through the door, apprehension like a mask over his face.

"What do you want Nott?"

"I spoke to Harry about your mum." Draco's silver eyes shot over to his former friend, his interest suddenly piqued.

"And?"

"He thinks that she is still alive. The spies we have on your family –"

"Excuse me? For fucks sakes you angels really don't know how to just leave people alone, do you? Are we interesting, make for some good spy stories? I just love the one where my father tried to beat me senseless because I refused to murder a muggle child. Did they share that little tidbit over the campfire?"

Theo bit his tongue, still standing with his back against the door to Draco's room. "It's purely a precaution." He cleared his throat, his tan hands nervously wringing together, "they haven't reported any kind of funeral or service of the like. Harry went as far back as last February in the files to be sure."

Gratitude slammed into him like a train, gratitude for saint Potter and his determination to consistently do the right bloody thing. For Theo, who despite his betrayal, seemed resolved to extend him a helping hand no matter how many times he got stung. If there hadn't been a funeral service, then surely his mother had gone undetected, was surely still alive, still laughing and fretting over her grey hairs. It made his sense of urgency to escape seem to triple, his chest aching at the thought of seeing her again and saving her from her fate. He had not a single clue how Voldemort had not cracked her yet, she had never been talented at legilimency, but somehow, some way, she had held on.

"Thank you, Theo." He meant it, more than he could express through words and he steeled himself to show it with his eyes, to drop down his walls for just a moment and let the emotion tumble through.

The corner of Theo's mouth lifted in a smile, "Of course." He made to turn away but then looked back, "Oh and also, Hermione will be going on a little girls' trip this upcoming weekend so you're stuck with me for a few days." Mischief sparked in his eyes, "maybe you can kiss your pillow to make up for her absence."

Draco tossed an empty plate at Theo's head as the turncoat chuckled and slammed the door behind him, leaving the plate to shatter against the ancient wood.

* * *

Her bags were double, no, triple checked. Had she made sure she packed toothpaste? She checked for a fourth time, anxiety had taken her body hostage. The idea of a girls' weekend, of a few days for blissful escape from the bloody reality of war, made her heart pool with guilt. What would her parents think? Their own daughter erased their memory, sent them away never to again return, and instead of fighting day and night for the war she deemed more important than their claim to their own consciousness, she went to southern France to get drunk with friends?

Frustrated tears burst from her eyes and landed on her open trunk. She spied her toothpaste through watery vision and zipped up her things once more.

"'Mione?" Ron sounded soft behind her, as though he may break her if he spoke up. She hurriedly wiped away her tears before he took her into his arms, hushing into her ear. "It's okay. It'll all be okay. They would be proud of you."

She silently thanked how well her friend knew her, how well he knew what would have caused her to break down in a fit of sobs hours before her holiday. She nuzzled into his shoulder, his familiar scent, and held her tongue from apologizing for the snot that was inevitably getting into his shirt. He'd only hush away her words as soon as she spoke them.

"I know it's hard," he said into her hair, "I cannot imagine how hard it is to go through what you have gone through in this war, but you will get through it all. We. We will get through it. Harry and I, we will be by your side, no matter what."

"I don't deserve the two of you." She sniffled

"Don't deserve us? Bloody hell Hermione do you know how many times we would have died if it hadn't been for you over the years? I thank god we were all stupid enough to take on a troll together at 11 years old." They both laughed at the memory, of their childish belief in invincibility. How blissful it had been, convinced they could never be touched.

"Thank you, Ron." She wiped her eyes once more, "Now let's go find Ginny. I can only imagine the tantrum she will throw if we are late."

"I'm pretty sure she's already slightly drunk."

"I would expect nothing less." She hauled her trunk down the stairs, denying Ron's help to lift it despite its weight and went into the kitchen.

Pure chaos ensued as soon as she opened the door, her friends running in every which direction in an attempt to prepare for the coming trip. Ginny was sitting on top of the table with a bottle of tequila in her hand, but no glass in sight. Luna and Theo were arguing over how many special sets of eyewear she needed to pack in order to see specific creatures. Neville was attempting to peel a banana but every time he pulled down the skin, Hannah secretly waved her wand behind him and pulled it back up, her face red from suppressing laughter. Harry stood next to Ginny, yelling at Padma to stop encouraging Ginny to drink from the bottle of alcohol as Dean drunkenly defended that Padma and Ginny deserved all the liquor their hearts desired. Fred and George, from a hidden corner of the kitchen were currently sending fizzing whizbees towards an unsuspecting Hannah. Trust the twins to prank the pranker.

Warmth radiated through her chest at the sight of her friends, they were an absolute disaster, but she wouldn't have it any other way. Ron whispered down in her ear, "now you know why I came up to find you." He winked playfully before going to join his girlfriend and warn her of Fred and George's impending attack.

Ginny caught sight of Hermione in the doorway and lifted her bottle in salute, "Finally!" She yelled, "Hermione come take a shot, it's almost time to go!" The memory of the tequila from New Years still sat unpleasantly at the back of Hermione's tongue, she playfully declined. Soon enough however, Dean was pushing her into the table, Harry shaking his head in defeat as amusement shined out of his eyes while he gazed at his girlfriend.

They left for France an hour later, Hermione wasn't sure if it was the floo or her own alcohol induced mind that caused the journey to spin so much she lost her balance, but it felt good to end up on the floor of their cottage in a laughing heap with her chosen family. There were some things even war couldn't rip away.

* * *

They spent the entire first day and night running around their cottage or into the ocean that sat just outside their front porch. The waves kissed their toes, making them all squeal in delight no matter how sure the next wave would be a moment later. The day blended into the night and then into the early morning, their intoxicated laughter enough to fill her soul. Not once had she thought of battle strategies, healing techniques, lost friends, broken promises or bloody scars. It was exactly what she had needed, a chance to breathe without feeling the crushing weight of her life, of her choices.

The second night found them on the floor of the cottage, surrounded by pillows and blankets. She felt as though she'd been transported into one of the many muggle movies she had watched in her youth. They were the ideal slumber party, no evidence of the crimes they each carried in their hearts.

"Ginny so help me god if you describe yours' and Harry's sex life one more time, I am getting a bin to vomit in." Hermione feigned being sick to the laughter of her friends.

Ginny shrugged, "I'm just saying, the boy who lived is more like a _man_."

"Stop!" Hermione yelled, putting her fingers into her ears.

"Oh you're just mad because you're not getting any." Ginny joked, but Hermione's cheeks reddened against her will. Luna immediately looked to the ceiling, as though she hadn't heard the conversation change direction.

Hannah clapped a hand to her mouth in surprise, "What? Is that our Hermione, blushing?"

"I am not blushing!"

"You so are!" Padma said in delight.

"Who is this mystery man in your life?" Ginny wiggled her brows, "or woman."

"There is no one!"

"God I wish I'd taken you up on those legilimency lessons now." Ginny grinned

"First of all, you still should practice. And second of all, you'd never get past my walls even with the training."

"So you're saying there's something worth mentioning, past those walls?" Hannah smirked.

"Or someone?" Padma half yelled.

Her mind immediately sprung to a certain blonde, to the way his tongue had felt in her mouth, how eager she was to taste him again. "No!" But her voice has slightly broke, her friends smiled evilly at her, Hannah throwing popcorn into her mouth.

"How did you even find the time to find a man?" Ginny inquired, "you spend more time with Draco than us some days, where would you have found another…" her voice trailed off, suspicion clouding her features. Hermione did her best to look quizzically at her best friend, but the gears were turning in the fiery redhead's mind, placing the pieces together.

"No." She whispered. The rest of the girls were looking back and forth between the two, only Luna seeming to understand the exchange.

"I need some air." Hermione jumped up from the floor and ran to the back porch, tossing her head back to look at the stars and grounding herself in the shine of the sky and the feeling of wooden planks beneath her feet, instead of the panic creeping over her shoulders.

"Hermione?" Luna's melodic voice came from the porch door, almost drowned out by the sound of the waves crashing against the sand. She came to stand beside her friend and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "You know when Theo first pursued me, I wouldn't even look him in the eye for a month. I was cruel to him, harsh against my better nature because I was ashamed at the way he made me feel, the glances I stole every moment I could." She turned to look at Hermione, who was still looking up at the night sky, "but I learned, through trial and error, the things that make us feel alive, that light our souls on fire, they're fate whispering in our ear, praying we'll finally catch the hint. You don't need to tear yourself apart with guilt for the way you feel, you don't need to explain the storm raging in your heart – to anyone."

Hermione sighed, turning her face away from the stars and to look into Luna's, "yes but your precious fate pushed you towards someone good, and my fate has not." She didn't know why she played along with Luna's metaphor, the pure concept of fate was highly illogical, and if it did exist, a real sadistic bastard. "It's not a big deal, hardly anything has even happened anyways."

"It's a big deal, if it matters to you."

"It shouldn't matter, it won't. Once I figure out how to get this under control, it won't matter. I hardly even know him, he hardly even knows me."

"That's not true," Luna said quietly, "I saw the way you looked at each other on Christmas. Your room is right next to mine; I've noticed the nights you don't come back until the early hours of the morning, humming melodies to yourself, as you get ready for bed. It matters." She smiled, "and perhaps the best things aren't meant to be under control anyways."

"I don't know if you knew this, but I'm a bit of a control freak."

Luna laughed so hard she snorted and took Hermione into her arms for a hug, "You? I had no idea."

She knew she'd have to go into the cottage and face Ginny and the others, face the emotions she hadn't wanted to give a name, attach to a person. But for now, she watched the ocean pull itself up onto the sand, as sure and steady as the beat of her heart and the twinkle of the stars above.

* * *

His brow was covered in sweat, his breathing heavy. It was the early hours of the morning, and as the rest of the house slept, he disappeared and reappeared into every corner of his room, then into every corner of the library. He'd done it. Months of practice, of research, and he'd been able to disable the wards for the briefest moment to apparate a foot away, then two, then ten.

He grabbed the bag he'd conjured and threw some of the books into it, then the cloth she'd given him. It made him stop and stare down at his hands. He'd do anything to ensure her safety, and yet he was positive he was about to hurt her in a way he'd never meant to, in a way she didn't expect.

Paper and a quill flew across the room to him and he scribbled a note, first to Theo. He owed him that much, after the trouble he'd gone through to ease his worries. Next, came her. He held the quill above the parchment; a blot of ink dripped from its tip and stained the crisp surface. He yearned for her touch, to be able to look her in the eyes and explain, it wasn't her fault – any of it. To thank her for his life, his sanity, for her warmth.

A moment later and he was pulling his bag into his arms, casting a last look over his all too familiar quarters before summoning every ounce of strength he had and turning on the spot with a loud crack. The parchment rustled on his desk at the disturbance but then laid stagnant, still wet with ink.

 _Please, forgive me._

* * *

 **Sorry I've been mean with the cliff hangers lately...also sorry I had super bad writers block so this chapter might not be great, who knows. Please please review, tell me what you think! Thanks!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Sorry, this chapter is a lot shorter than previous ones, but I liked where it ended and began. Please review, this chapter meant a lot to me and is one I've been wanting to write since the beginning, so I really wanna know what everyone thinks. As always, everything belongs to J.K Rowling.**

* * *

"'Mione…" Harry whispered from the doorway. "'Mione he's gone."

She was frantically overturning the blankets of his bed; they still ached of his sent, nearly bringing her to her knees. Gone. No. He couldn't truly, couldn't possibly…it was all joke. It had to be. And yet, his note still sat untouched on his desk, her hands had shaken too much to even lift it, to even attempt to grasp Theo's and see why the sick bastard deemed Theo more worthy of a proper goodbye than her. Three words. That was all she was afforded, meanwhile it looked as though he'd penned a fucking novel for his traitorous friend. It wasn't fair; it didn't make sense, none of it made sense.

Fury lit her from within, sparking against her bones. Was she not allowed one weekend, two days of freedom? Perhaps this was what she had deserved, for thinking for even a moment that she deserved a break from war, that she hadn't lost herself to blood and death. But still, despite the monster they had both become, she had earned a goodbye, an explanation, _anything_.

Theo set a warm hand down on her shoulder, her arms immediately ceased shaking the blanket. "Hermione," he placed another hand on her other shoulder and turned her to face him. She had to tip her head back to meet his eyes, holding the same betrayal she currently felt drowning her lungs. "He's gone, love." The rage, Theo's warmth, it all vanished from her system as the cold January air seeped through the walls, through her clothes, into her chest. Gone.

Her knees crumpled beneath her and she fell into a heap onto the floor. Harry ran from the doorway and settled onto the floor next to her. Her voice broke as she looked up at her best friend. "Why?" A question she already had a logical explanation for. A question she wasn't sure she wanted an answer to; she wasn't sure what she was even asking. Why had he left? No she knew that, she understood even. Why did it feel like he'd taken a hammer to her glass heart? Why had she let herself glance her vulnerability, allow herself mere moments of happiness in his presence. Why was he gone? And why, _why_ , did it hurt?

* * *

The Manor was eerily silent as he landed into his old bedroom. A thin layer of dust coated every surface, the curtains were pulled tightly over his large window, barely allowing the sun to peek through and expose the absence. As though shining a light on the emptiness, the untouched bed and neatly stacked clean clothes on his wardrobe would make it all too real, all too true.

How long had his mother searched for him before she refused to enter this room? How many tears had she shed for her missing son, her missing heart? He winced in pain at the thought of her loneliness, the person in his world that deserved it least. He called out for his house elf, but did not feel the familiar tug on his mind that signaled her arrival. In fact, he felt nothing where she usually resided, as though the bond between them had been slashed with a knife. Had his family set them free after he'd left? It seemed unlikely but he refused to entertain an alternative.

After a final glance at his room, he strode towards the door and walked through the equally abandoned hallway. Distantly through the house, he could hear a fire crackling and a low murmur of voices. He followed them, nearly running through the cold house, desperate to bathe himself in the warmth of his family, of his mother, of his friends.

"Draco?" Blaise stood from his armchair near the fireplace and sprinted to give his friend a hug. "We thought you were dead mate!" He stood back from him to look over his face, as though it couldn't quite be real.

"Oh don't be going teary eyed on me Blaise, I look good but I don't look that good." He smirked and clapped a hand on his friends' shoulder.

"My son, always so modest." A voice like ice snaked its way over the cold tiled floor and into Draco's lungs. His father stood from the armchair that had been facing away from him when he'd entered the sitting room. "I do hope there is an explanation for your extended absence?" Lucius' eyes bore into his sons, so similar and yet so devoid of the life Draco had fought to keep alive in his soul.

"Good to see you too, Father. Don't worry, I've just been dandy, thanks for asking."

Lucius ignored his sons' comments, "where have you been?"

"I don't know." Draco lied swiftly, "I was captured by the Order, but never told where I was staying." As expected, cool tendrils of magic bumped up along his mental walls, testing for any kind of crack, any lie. He struggled not to smirk at the pathetic attempt, had his time away really been enough for his father to forget, to second-guess, who the most accomplished legilimens in the Death Eater's was?

"How did you escape?" Blaise sounded breathless, still somewhat convinced he was dreaming the entire thing.

"Well Saint Potter and Co. have always been known for underestimating the enemy." He smirked but it didn't meet his eyes, didn't come from a place of spite like he'd intended it to.

"You mean to say," Lucius' lip began to curl, "you were in the hands of the Order for eight months and didn't manage to even get a hint of information to bring back to us?" The elder Malfoy rolled his eyes and went back to sit in his chair, "is there anything you're good for Draco? Or do you enjoy being a consistent disappointment?"

"That's uncalled for, Malfoy!" Blaise jumped to his defense, but Draco had hardly registered the words, too used to the insults over the years.

"Well forgive me," malice dripped from Lucius' voice, "if I'm not overly eager to be reunited with a son who didn't even make his mothers sacrifice worthwhile."

The ground dropped out from beneath his feet, snakes of grief slithered over his lungs and squeezed, sucking the life from his bones. "Sacrifice?" His voice sounded as though it had come from a distant room, not real.

"Mate, you didn't know? Half of me figured if you were alive, that was why you hadn't come back." Pity weaved through Blaise's voice. "She was the one who dropped the wards the day you left, she got the house elves to help her with their apparation magic. The Dark Lord was livid, I don't remember the last time I saw him that angry."

It was all beginning to make sense, why his house elf hadn't come when he'd summoned her, why the bond had felt wrong, empty. Why his house was so cold, the only person to have ever brought it life, permanently gone. Gone. No.

Fury ripped through his veins and he nearly growled as he aimed his magic at his father, the mental walls immediately vanishing into dust. Memories slid past his eyes, each more grotesque than the last.

 _Horror settled into his stomach as he watched his son flinch and then disappear on the spot. Voldemort's red eyes widened in shock and anger, he eagerly looked around the room as though his favorite lieutenant may be just behind him._

 _"Where did he go?" He hissed, the rage echoing off the stones in cruel reminders of his power. "Who possibly let down my wards?"_

 _"I…I don't know m..my Lord." A white hand eagerly whacked across his face, leaving a bloody mark across his cheek. Bellatrix was trembling in the corner, knowledge shining in her black eyes. It took only moments for Voldemort to pick up on this, rifle through her mind, and roar in outrage as he tore from the room._

 _"Narcissa." Voice cold as death swept through the manor, eerily calm, searching. "Narcissa dear, that was quite foolish, wasn't it?" He laughed humorlessly, "I repeatedly tell you all that love will be your downfall, perhaps this will finally convince everyone."_

 _Narcissa Malfoy stepped proudly into the room as her sister audibly cried out, begging her to turn around and to run. She ignored her and looked him directly into his eyes, red meeting blue. "Yes, My Lord?"_

 _"It seems, I have underestimated a mother once again in my life…a mistake I shall no longer allow myself to make." Three house elves gathered around their master, looking up at her fearfully. Voldemort slashed his wand silently through the air and in a split second, all three dropped dead to the ground. Narcissa did not flinch, did not break eye contact._

 _"No one ever does seem to question the mother, do they?" She smirked, "all so convinced my son got his legilimency talent from his uncle, no one thought for a moment to look towards who created him, who birthed him." If she felt fear, she did not show it. Draco felt – through Lucius' eyes – dread spread into every part of his body. Narcissa finally looked away from the Dark Lord to meet her sister's gaze, "It was my mistake putting that information on you, Bella. I knew you could not keep it from him, so do not feel guilty. It's okay." Bellatrix had silent tears streaming down her cheeks, making tracks in the dirt that had settled onto her face from being hunched so far into the ground._

 _Voldemort's inhuman face stretched into an evil grin. "Imperio." He whispered. His wand was pointed not at Narcissa, but at Draco – at Lucius. His father bucked at the spell's hold, his fingertips bloodied from scratching at the floor, trying desperately to avoid the task his master had assigned him. Draco watched his entire world burst into flames before his eyes, the ash of what he had once known rained down around him. He watched his father, his own father, hand shaking, raise his wand and whisper the words he had filled his mouth with blood to avoid. Green light lit the room, and when he dared open his eyes – Lucius' eyes – his mother lay sprawled across the ground, staring up at a ceiling she could no longer see._

Agony ripped him from his father's mind; it tore his remaining resolve and sanity into ribbons. "How could you?" His voice was hoarse from screaming he hadn't realized he'd been doing.

"You know I did not have a choice," regret washing over his father's face, "you saw how I tried, I tried to fight."

Blaise was looking between father and son; understanding at what had just transpired dawning on his features. "We tried to have a funeral, tried to organize something small. But, he saw it in our minds. He took her body and burned it, punished us for weeks for trying to honor her. Draco, Draco I'm so sorry."

This was why Potter's spies hadn't seen any indication of a funeral; any hint that something was wrong. He should have known, he did know. A deep part of him had known his mother couldn't possibly be alive. Despite her legilimency skills she hadn't ever shared with anyone, not even him. He wanted to forget, he wanted to erase the image of her lifeless eyes from his mind. From every mind on this planet, so that it never existed, any of it.

A burst of emotion sent his magic spiraling towards his friend and father, both being knocked off their feet by his power. He realized, as they stood with a blank stare on their faces, what he had done. What he'd wished he could do to himself. He cast a silent disillusion charm, felt it trickle down his back as he molded into the shadows of the room.

Without a sound, he set to work. He snaked his way through their minds, erasing any suggestion of his presence tonight. Filled their minds with memories of an unremarkable night spent next to the fire, discussing new battle strategies. Only when he could not tell his work from reality did he step away from the room, sprint to the end of the hallway, and apparate away, running from the truth he hadn't ever wanted to find.

* * *

She found him where she'd known he'd go. Crumpled into a broken ball against the wall of the alley. Visible sobs shook his shoulders, illuminated through the sparse moonlight. She wasn't sure which instance of discovering him in this alley had been more shocking, had shown more of a broken man.

"Draco." She rested a hand on his arm as he flinched. That was the most he acknowledged her, and so she sat down on the ground next to him, and took him into her arms. He didn't fight her, perhaps too stricken by grief to even realize who it was next to him.

She'd fought endlessly with Theo and Harry to come here. They were convinced it would end up being a trap, that he'd hurt her. But she knew, knew in her bones that he would never hurt her, not if he could help it. She'd understood, despite the anger and hurt still simmering, why he'd needed to go. And she'd known, had an inkling of an idea of what he would find, of where he'd go once he came to the realization there was no where else.

The knowledge of this kind of loss, she wouldn't wish it on her worst enemy. The aching agony that empties out your chest, that hollows out your bones, until all that's left of you is cold air and desperation to feel their warmth once more, to hear their voice one last time.

Theo and Harry had told her of his questioning about his mother, how there had been no sign of foul play. How foolish they'd been, offering him hope on silver platter before he could snatch it. She had screamed herself hoarse at them, hadn't they realized? Voldemort wouldn't have allowed a funeral for a traitor, no matter who she was related to.

They'd then yelled at her, for keeping secrets of his magical ability, of his strength. In all honesty, she wasn't entirely sure they'd even been okay with her leaving to find him. She had taken a bottle of Polyjuice potion before they could protest, and apparated away before her features had fully melded into a stranger.

It was only once her teeth were chattering so violently she could barely hear his uneven breathing that she grasped his hand and raised his chin to look into her eyes. She'd charmed them to be her own, perhaps not her brightest idea, but she knew it was worth the risk as recognition slid into his eyes at who had come to sit with him.

"Do you want to come back?" She whispered.

His brain was too tired to consider what going back would mean, what trust he'd lost with every person who resided in that house. But where else would he go? Who else would he turn to? His mother was dead, at the hands of his father, and his friends and family, they had allowed it to happen. They had allowed him to be tortured within an inch of his life, only his mother possessing the strength, the bravery, and the love to save him. His head barely nodded before she smiled sadly and spun with him on the spot, a loud crack resounding through the alley.

* * *

 **Ahh sorry again this is so short and pretty depressing, but...it had to happen! Please review, they make my day! Thanks!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Ahhh sorry for the delay on this chapter, major writers block and just a very busy schedule! I hope the length makes up for it. Please please review, I can't explain how much they make my day!**

* * *

A week passed. What had once been the door to the library was now a blank stretch of wall, mocking him from his place in bed. He had never been the sulking type and despised pity, but fuck all if he hadn't earned a week of staying in bed. As long as he lay, sleep rarely came. Every time he closed his eyes, his mother's cold, unseeing face was brandished across his mind. He couldn't escape it, he wasn't sure he deserved to. His mother was dead, because of him. Because he hadn't been able to follow simple goddamn orders.

Hermione hadn't said a word to him since they'd returned to headquarters. She silently placed his meals on his bedside table, and took every untouched plate back down with her. He had a feeling she was angry with him, but she could get in fucking line. After himself, his father, his aunt, and the entire damn Order. He'd heard the arguments drifting up from the ground floor. In fact, 'argument' was a nice way of putting it. All out brawls seemed like a better definition.

As mad as she likely was with him, he found an emotion in the emptiness of his gut that resembled gratitude towards the brilliant witch. He'd learned from a particularly loud argument yesterday that she'd put a charm on his door that only allowed her inside the room, and from the screaming matches he'd unwillingly eavesdropped on, he suspected it was more for his safety than anything else. As if he deserved any sort of protection. He still was struggling to understand why he'd even agreed to come back here, why he hadn't stayed in that alley, allowed himself to rot.

The door creaked open signaling her arrival with breakfast. He didn't bother to turn to face her as she set down the plate next to his cold dinner from the night before. He waited for the sound of her retreating footsteps, but they never came.

"This is getting ridiculous." Her arms were crossed and she was tapping her foot. Every bit playing into her clear lack of patience. "It's been a week Draco, at least get off your arse and shower, you smell." She whipped the blanket off of him and as he looked down at his shirtless torso it hit him just how much weight he'd lost in such a short span of time. She seemed to have realized this at the same time as him, because pity pooled in the brown depths of her eyes. He was too tired to comment on it, any of it.

"Leave, Granger."

"Take a shower, and maybe I will."

"You're more than welcome to join." He expected her to scowl, but instead hope flitted across her face at his retort. At the hint of his personality, breaking through the ice of his grief.

"Just do something about the smell, you look shit."

He attempted to wave his hand and perform a quick cleaning spell but found he did not have the energy to perform enough wandless magic to even summon his blanket from her hands. She raised a brow, "yeah you have to eat for that whole 'magic' thing to work." Her voice dripped with impatience, "until you decide to enlighten me – or anyone really – on what happened when you had your lovely little getaway, there isn't much any of us can do." She threw the blanket back down on him, "I've put a charm on your door to keep the rest of the Order from pouring potion down your throat and forcing the truth out of you. Which, in case you were wondering, people would usually say 'thank you' to that."

He swallowed, the reality of how deep his betrayal had scarred her beginning to sink in, "Thank you."

She rolled her eyes, "please just eat, and bathe. I'm not your counselor, Draco. It's not my job to fix whatever mess you seem to have found yourself in, only you can do that."

With that, she left him again in his silence, realizing that she had placed a book next to his breakfast. Its title read 'Grief: The Stages.' How that bloody Gryffindor knew things before anyone spoke them was beyond him. If he weren't so sure of his mental walls he'd be sure she had wormed her way into his memories. No, it seemed that having a heart so big you even take in the broken, sarcastic Death Eater, came with intuition as well. Despite his internal grumblings, he reached for a fork and took a bite of fluffy pancake.

* * *

Another week passed before his routine once again shifted. He had begrudgingly eaten every meal she'd brought, and showered every morning. The book however remained untouched, beginning to gather a thin film of dust. Behind his eyelids, his mother's face still haunted him. Emotion was beginning to flood the emptiness that had taken up residency in his body. With this emotion, came realization at the pain of a pang of hunger, the burning of his arm, the ache in his chest at the memories he wished he'd never seen, never known.

He turned his head towards sudden shouting outside his door. Hermione's voice could be clearly heard over two angry males, he had a few guesses as to who she was fighting with and what about. Although if he was being honest with himself, just about every male in the house would probably be fighting to burst into his room and beat him senseless as this point. He wasn't sure he'd protest.

"Why the _fuck_ are you protecting him?" Theo's enraged voice flowed under the door.

"Hermione this is getting to be a bit much, he's a traitor." Harry's more reasonable plea, not as overrun with emotions as his former friend.

"I am not defending his actions." He could nearly picture her nose turned up with her words, "but what makes us any better if we shove that potion back down his throat? After what he's been through?"

"And just what _has_ he been through love? Since you've been so god damn secretive the past two weeks, please, enlighten us." Theo's Slytherin attitude shining full force.

"Well. I'm not actually sure, I have my suspicions…"

"You charmed the door of a Death Eater who betrayed us shut because of a SUSPICION?" Ron had now joined the fray, his voice roaring above the others.

"She has a reason for doing what she is doing, can you all swallow some of your fucking testosterone down?" Ginny has just climbed the stairs. He imagined her face as red as her signature hair, face close to her similarly bad-tempered brother.

"Since when are you defending this? You're the one who nearly left France early in a huff over it." Harry, confusion seeping from the hallway. Draco reckoned this was the most entertainment he'd gotten since being captured by the Order last June. Screw the library, he just needed an insiders pass to the drama of the Order.

"I did not nearly leave France," Ginny grit out, "Hermione and I discussed it and she calmed me down." Someone snorted in response; he guessed it could have been all three men at once. The youngest Weasley was not known for calm discussion.

"How do you even know he hasn't sold us out, how do you know we aren't about to have Voldemort on our doorstep?" Harry had changed the subject, probably in the interest of maintaining the harmony of his relationship.

"Oh c'mon doesn't anyone else have common sense in this house?" He could picture Hermione rolling her eyes, "I charmed his cloth I gave him for Christmas. If he'd tried to speak about our secrets, it would have burned his skin the next time he used it and left a visible scar. He has no visible scar, and has been wearing it every day for the past week. Is it so hard for you all to imagine I actually thought things through and didn't let my feelings cloud my judgment?" He wasn't sure why, but he felt hurt at the thought she hadn't ever truly trusted him. Not that he'd ever deserved her trust, but he found himself wishing he had it, wishing he hadn't just burned his last chance to ashes.

"That was genius, Hermione." Ron had clear pride in his voice.

She coolly answered, "yes, I know. Now for the last time, I'm not letting anyone in there until he's had more time to adjust. I don't know what he went through, but it wasn't good. And trust me, I'm just as angry as the rest of you, but I also have a fucking soul." The last word was spit with venom, aimed directly at three of the people most important in her life. She wasn't sure why such malice had risen up in her gut, but she was struggling to squash it back down.

"Fine." Harry responded shortly, "But by the end of the month, I want to be able to question him. I don't care that your charm shows he didn't betray us, we still don't know where he went or why."

"You know why." She hissed, dangerously low.

"I'm not going off of suspicions. This war is too important to leave anything to chance." This seemed to settle the argument. No one made another sound as they descended the steps and Hermione turned to enter Draco's room.

He quickly lifted the blanket over his head, feigning sleep. After all she'd done for him since he'd returned, the least he could do was leave the snide comments to a minimum. For now. She must have bought his ruse because she didn't address him and stepped quietly over to his bedside table. There was a clatter of his dishes being sent away with magic and then her sniffles. His heart tore open at the sound. The image of her crying after telling him about Pansy was still stained into his brain, the pain that had swam through her eyes and down her cheeks as he'd uttered words he vowed never to speak again. He considered rolling over, asking her what was wrong, trying to pull her into his arms, anything to stop the tears. But he was a coward, a broken coward who knew that sometimes it felt better to cry things out all on your own.

* * *

"Hermione?" Ginny knocked softly at her bedroom door as she hastily wiped tears from her cheeks and tried to fix her hair.

"What is it Gin?" Her voice cracked despite her best efforts and she felt embarrassment pool in her gut. To her surprise, Hannah and Luna walked in behind the youngest Weasley, all with slight looks of pity marring their features.

"How are you doing?" Hannah placed a warm hand on Hermione's shoulder. It took a painful swallow of her pride not to shrug it off. She knew they were all just trying to be comforting, to be supporting friends despite their inability to understand how she felt. And she appreciated it, she truly did. But some emotions felt better to process alone.

"I've been better." She answered truthfully. Ginny laughed slightly and sat next to Hermione on her bed, wiping away a stray tear she had missed.

"Has he told you what happened? Why he had to leave?" Luna asked.

Hermione shook her head, "No. But I have my suspicions…as I'm sure you all heard after mine and the boys' little disagreement this morning.

"Oh they can shove off," Ginny rolled her hazel eyes, "I love them all dearly but they truly do fail to understand emotions sometimes." The rest of the girls laughed in agreement.

"So what is your suspicion?" Hannah leaned closer, as though hungry for understanding.

She sighed, "I think his mother was killed. And I think he thinks it was his fault." The silent response could have choked her. "No one has heard from or seen Narcissa Malfoy in ages and Theo told me that Draco was asking about her. He'd mentioned his concerns about it to me as well, how he feared he'd been able to escape Voldemort and then become captured by the Order was because of her. He thought she may have been punished for her efforts…and I think he had to go back to find out."

Luna shook her head angrily; "I am going to murder Theo once we're done in here." The rest of the girls looked up in surprise, violence was not the Ravenclaw's natural default. "He's been sulking about Draco since the moment he left, and he didn't even try to think of what his friend has been through. I swear men can be so thick."

"They just feel betrayed." Hermione defended, "And I honestly can't blame them. I'm still livid with him for leaving. But I can't exactly yell at the guy who just found out his mum was murdered now can I? I know…" She swallowed down a cry, "I know what it feels like to lose your parents. I just wish he hadn't royally pissed me off before he went through this, perhaps I'd have a smidge more empathy." She laughed darkly. The rest of the girls remained silent, pity pouring out of their eyes. Hermione so rarely spoke of her parents, of the loss she hadn't quite suffered but all the same had.

"I can speak to him about it, if you'd like?" Luna offered, "I know I went through losing my mother a long while ago, but I do remember the feeling."

Hermione smiled up at her friend and took her hand into her own, "Thank you, Luna. But I think anyone trying to relate with him will find themselves attacked with witty insults and sarcastic jabs. He's not exactly the kindest man to deal with."

"That seems like an understatement." Ginny mumbled. Hermione playfully hit her arm, but she couldn't find it in herself to disagree. So why did his betrayal still sting? Why did her heart still shatter every time she entered his room and saw the emptiness in his eyes, the weight that had fallen off his bones? She longed to reach out to him, to hold him like she had in that alley when he'd been too overcome with grief to push her away. As angry and hurt as she was, she still cared for him, still wanted to make sure he was okay. And that fact set her logic and her emotions up in a vicious civil war that had been raging for two weeks now.

"We know you still care for him." Ginny had softened her voice, as though she'd read her best friend's mind. "And I won't pretend to completely understand why, I think I made my feelings towards him quite clear in France." Her mouth lifted into a half grin, "But I also know emotions don't always make sense, and no one has really gotten to know him like you have. It's okay to still have feelings for him Hermione, you know that right?" Hannah and Luna nodded in agreement.

"But that's just the thing. Is it okay? He left us, he left me with a note with only three fucking words on it. I wasn't even worth a proper goodbye, a second thought, anything. He left us." The anger bubbled up in her stomach and through her chest once more, mixing with the pain, the longing for his touch, and the empathy at his plight. It was enough to make her heartache and nausea to swirl in her throat.

"Well we did keep him here as a prisoner." Luna reasoned, "Can we really blame him for trying to leave and save his family?"

Hannah chipped in, "and you did mention how he didn't _actually_ betray us, never gave away any of our secrets, or else your charm would have burned him."

"Did he betray us?" Ginny spoke gently, "Or did he betray _you_?" Hermione felt like the weight of the world had shifted under her feet. He hadn't really done anything to hurt the Order, and he could have. He could have delivered Harry Potter to Voldemort's doorstep. All he really tried to do was rescue his mother, was that so terrible? But he'd lied to her, left her without even saying goodbye, without explaining anything, asking for forgiveness for a crime he never confessed to.

"I'm not sure." She answered honestly.

* * *

The cold weeks of February quickly shifted into misty and wet days of March. He wouldn't have noticed had it not been for the sudden pattering of rain against his window one morning. He wasn't sure what else had escaped his perceptions while under this never-ending fog of grief. He distantly remembered Potter making a promise to pursue him once more at the end of the month, but he couldn't find it in him to care.

He went through the motions, eat a few bites of each meal, shower each morning, count the cobwebs on his ceiling until sleep took him once more. It could only pursue him when he'd run from it for as long as physically possible, because once he was in its grip, the only thing he ever saw was his mother. Dead on the ground, no matter how loud he screamed, how fast he tried to run in front of her killing spell, he could never save her. And so dark circles had settled permanently beneath his silver eyes, stretching over his cheekbones that had grown in prominence with his lack of an appetite.

She broke his routine on a stormy morning by bursting through the door an hour earlier than she was meant to. "Alright Draco, it's been over a month." He did not offer her a response. "Do you know what that means? Soon the rest of the Order is going to come knocking down your door and to be quite frank, I'm tired of holding them off. And they won't be kind about it. I've been kind, I haven't pushed, and I've been patient. But I am tired of being your nurse and I am tired of crafting a basket of pity for you each morning to eat up. So you can tell me what happened, or you can wait for them to shove potion down your throat. Either way, I've given you as much time as I can. It's time to start talking about what happened."

His eyes drifted lazily to her. Her hands were on his hips, fire blazing in her eyes, a no-nonsense attitude streaming off of her in waves. It was clear, not from her words, but her posture as well, that she'd had enough. He'd had enough too, if he was being honest. He just didn't know how to stop this fog, how to pull himself back up. How to stop the nightmares, the grief, and the pain.

"If I tell you, they'll leave me alone?"

"Well, they won't force you to take Veritaserum. Whether they'll leave you alone…well you haven't exactly earned everyone's trust after the little stunt you pulled."

"Even after your special little spell revealed my arm to be no more fucked up than it already was before I left?" He lifted a brow at her shock, momentarily forgetting he'd been 'asleep' during that fiasco. "And to think id' believed I'd earned a grain of Granger's trust."

"Well any seed of trust you may have thought you'd gotten has now been thoroughly squashed and destroyed, so please stop trying to play the victim here." Her words held more force than the emotions playing across her features did.

"Oh come now Granger, you grew to know me. You placed that spell on my gift and then you turned around and kissed me that night. You knew I would leave, you knew why I researched wards and wandless magic. You knew I'd try to save her, and you didn't stop me. You didn't tell a single person of my intentions, too full of your own ego to realize someone may be able to actually outsmart the famous Hermione Granger." He knew his words were cruel, and yet he could not stop himself from speaking them. The truth that had been boiling under his skin for weeks now, too tired to burst out until she was standing in front of him. She filled him with an energy he hadn't known he'd ever get back. With life. With truth. With purpose.

"Oh fuck you Draco."

"You'd like that wouldn't you?"

"YOU DIDN'T EVEN SAY GOODBYE." The scream ripped from her throat and sent daggers at his heart. He stared at her in silence for what felt like an eternity, unable to come up with an answer that dignified his departure.

"I…" in what felt like a whiplash, he decided on the truth, "I was too afraid to say goodbye to you. I couldn't say goodbye to you."

"You're a coward." She spat, stepping closer to where he had now stood from his bed.

"I never pretended not to be, Granger. I'm not some fucking hero, I'm not on your side of the war, and I'm not the good guy here."

"Then why didn't you sell us out? Why didn't you tell him where we were, how to attack us? If you're so evil, if you're so stubbornly playing for the dark side, why not sell us out to your precious master?"

"He is not my master. I have no side in this war any longer."

"Then why not just give him Harry Potter anyways? End the war as quickly as you can? Hmm?" She was standing dangerously close to him.

"Because they would have come for you. They would have hurt you." She stepped back in surprise. "I didn't say goodbye to you because I knew…I knew if I saw you, if I had to look into your eyes and tell you I was leaving, I would never go. I'd never leave you. And I needed to." He moved towards her as she continuously backed away until she was against the wall where the door to the library had once stood. He stopped a foot from her, afraid of frightening her, but also desperate to reach out and feel her skin under his own. It was the most alive he'd felt in weeks.

"Why did you need to go?" She whispered.

"You know why." He gestured his head towards the book on grief, the title now almost obscured by dust. "I had to try…I had to see if she was…" his voice broke off as he held back a sob. He'd already cried in front of her one time too many.

"She wasn't, was she?" He shook his head and before he could help it the tears had escaped. He tried to tighten his eyes, to push them away, but every time he closed his eyes she was staring up at the ceiling, dead once more. Dead at the hand of his own father. Dead at the price of saving her son. Her son who had done nothing to protect her.

In an instant, her arms were wrapped around him and they were both crumpling to the ancient wooden floor. Despite being nearly a foot shorter than him, she held him in her arms and stroked his hair as he let out his anguish. He wondered when this pain would stop, if it would ever stop. When the image of his mother wouldn't send him spiraling into a heap on the floor, in the arms of the only other person he genuinely cared for on this planet.

She hushed soothing words into his ear as he struggled to find reality once more, to escape the nightmare of his own father's memories, memories that he now carried like a weight in his mind. As the world stopped spinning behind his eyelids and he found himself solid in her arms, he was forcefully reminded of how he'd done the same for her all those months ago. He'd brought her back to Earth, and now she seemed to be all that tethered him to the ground.

He knew it wasn't healthy, and perhaps with time, he'd become his own anchor once more. But damn he couldn't deny it felt good to have one thing that still made his lungs fill with life, made his feet feel like they could hit the floor.

They remained there until he was too tired to continue to allow the emotions to overcome him. She helped him up from the ground and summoned a cup of tea for his bedside table. He pulled her hand back towards him before she could turn away, so that they were sharing breath. He could read the conflict in her eyes, what she wanted and what she knew she should do. The betrayal, agony, resentment, passion, they were all there. In the end, she held his cheek before turning away and silently closing the door. He found he was still leaning in towards the warmth of her touch long after the light from the hallway faded beneath the crack under his door.

* * *

 **Sorry for any typo's or anything, I honestly didn't proofread this much because I'm tired and it's late and I took way too long to write this chapter in the first place but yeah I hope everyone likes it! It was not the easiest thing to write to please leave feedback! Thanks!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Wow hi everyone! Long time no see! I'm so sorry about the four month delay on a new chapter...I moved country and started graduate school so I've been super busy. And honestly I didn't think anyone really cared about this story. But then I logged on yesterday and saw the kindest review asking for this story to keep going and well...it meant the world! So sorry this is insanely short compared to other chapters, and maybe not great. I wrote it all probably too quickly. But here it is! And I'm going to try my best to finish this! It just might take a bit longer than I anticipated aha**

 **So yeah if you're reading this still, then thank you for sticking with me and I hope you like this 3**

* * *

"Hermione c'mon, this can't keep going on." Perhaps it was the fact that it was Neville who had finally spoken up, or perhaps it was that he was the first who hadn't raised their voice during this entire discussion, but his words hit her hard.

"Why didn't you tell us sooner about his mum?" Harry looked pained at the head of the table.

"I…" she hesitated, "I wasn't sure. I had my guesses from everything I'd heard from you and Theo and Draco himself," Half the table winced at her use of his first name and she struggled not to sigh in frustration, "but I didn't feel it was my information to tell, not until I was sure."

"What happened to her?" Ron had finally ceased yelling, his patience with her and Draco's relationship ultimately breaking when she physically pushed him from bursting into the traitor's door the night before.

"I'd rather not say, I think it's a private matter." The red returned to Ron's face with full force, but he kept his mouth tightly shut after a rough kick from Hannah under the table.

"I have a few theories." Said Theo darkly.

"Imagine the worst and then keep going." Hermione struggled not to let her bottom lip tremble as she recalled Draco's retelling of the memory, of the horror, of the pain.

"It doesn't change the fact we need information from him, we need clarification that he isn't going to leave again, that this truly happened, that he isn't currently spying on our every move." Harry had taken on his authoritative voice, "How can we even be sure he told you the truth Hermione?"

Every head immediately swiveled in the brunette's direction with a certain level of betrayal in their eyes. It was true; she had no concrete evidence that Draco wasn't lying. But she knew, she knew in her gut and in the way he'd broken in her arms, a shell of the once proud boy who roamed the halls of Hogwarts.

"What if I got evidence that he's trustworthy?"

Padma snorted, "How on earth would you even get that?"

"I can get some of his memories. In case you forgot, I'm the most accomplished Legilimens the Order currently has." Hermione spat icily. She was growing truly tired of Padma and Dean's constant judgment. She understood where it came from, but hadn't the war turned them all into monsters? What made one beast worse than the other?

"Hermione," Theo began, "He will never allow that. I don't know a single person he has ever let in, and I'm sorry to be blunt love but he's a better Legilimens than you…than anyone really. Except perhaps Voldemort."

"If she says she can do it, then I say we let her try." Ron piped up with the support he'd been struggling with the past month. Although, she wasn't sure if it came out of a place of support or a place of needing to disagree with Theo.

"I can ask him tonight." Her statement seemed to end the meeting as the sound of chairs pushed against the wood floors and chatter filled the room.

"'Mione can I talk to you?" Harry called over the noise and led her into the tapestry room. She knew what questions her friend had, and she resolutely stared at Sirius' burned out mark on the wall instead of into Harry's brilliantly green eyes.

"I know you want to afford him some privacy, and Hermione, I'm trying here I really am. I'm trying to understand and be a supportive friend, but I also have a war to lead and win." She slid her gaze to his features as the sudden realization of how grown they'd become hit her at full force. How had they gone so quickly from dashing across the grounds under an invisibility cloak to discussing their place in leading a war? She felt sick at where life had taken them, at where they may end up.

"Harry," She began,

"I just need to know what you know, I won't pass it around. I'll afford him all the damn privacy he wants, but I need to know in my gut that I'm trusting the right path here."

"He thinks he is to blame for his mother's death." Her voice felt far away, like a strangers.

"Is he?"

"No. But I don't think there will ever come a day he believes that." She bit her bottom lip to keep it from trembling. Discussing Draco's secrets felt like an uncomfortable itch spreading across her body. Despite all he'd done, she despised the idea of betraying his trust. "She's the reason he was able to escape, the day I first found him. She kept her allegiances a secret from Voldemort himself, until the end."

Harry's eyebrows shot up, "How the hell did she do that?"

"I don't really know. He hasn't told me everything. I'm not even sure how she was killed, but Harry…it was bad."

He ran a hand through his disheveled hair and sighed, "You need to figure out what happened Hermione. I know you care for him…more than I think you even realize." His green eyes locked onto her brown ones and the truth seemed to nearly pour out of her, just how far she'd fallen for the broken man upstairs. "But it doesn't erase his crimes, how he's hurt members of the Order, how he betrayed even you…there needs to be an explanation or I won't hold the other's off for much longer."

"I know." She looked up to the ceiling where Draco undoubtedly still remained in bed four floors above, "I'll speak to him."

"Hermione," Harry called after her retreating figure, "remember who you are."

"Don't you mean remember who _he_ is?" She smirked and disappeared through the doorway, leaving Harry alone to gaze at the burned mark of the closest thing he'd ever had to a father.

* * *

Another two weeks had passed with little to no contact from anyone outside of Hermione. He'd been too embarrassed to mention his moment of weakness, and she'd had enough tact to let it remain a silent issue. Soon after he revealed to her, or rather confirmed, what had happened to his mother, he'd heard a third world war drift from downstairs. He had a guess that she'd further put her foot down on anyone questioning him and for that he was grateful, but was growing tired of needing protection.

His mother hadn't died for him to remain cowered in his room for over a month, eyes itchy from the ever-constant tears that seemed to haunt him. The problem was, he wasn't even sure where to begin. Where did you patch up the pieces when every inch was broken?

"Draco." Her voice startled him from his thoughts and he turned to see her in the doorway, concern knit into her features. "We need to talk."

"Oh goody. That's what every man loves to hear when being greeted." He rolled over in bed and pulled the cover over his head, which Hermione promptly tore off with a wave of her wand.

"I'm serious."

He busied himself with summoning a shirt as her eyes desperately tried to look anywhere but at his exposed chest and his pajama bottoms that were sitting far too low on his hips. He caught her faze after putting on a shirt and smirked slyly.

"My eyes are up here, Granger."

She ignored his comment, "The Order doesn't fully believe me, about your mother, about what happened."

He feigned ignorance, "You mean to say the group of people who hate my guts don't believe a word I say? This is tragic, truly."

"Draco I've been kind with you, but I'm on my last bit of patience." She snapped, "I still don't even know what happened exactly, and I haven't pushed because…" she quickly shut her mouth to stop her next words from tumbling out. With a deep breath, she continued, "Because it's a hard thing to process. But if I can't prove what happened to you…if I can't prove you're not just a Death Eater spy…Draco they're going to question you. They're going to get answers, whether you want to give them or not."

"Really love how you lot call yourselves the 'good side' of this bloody war." He scoffed.

"Don't you dare," her voice dangerously low, "you've seen what the other side is capable of, you've committed those crimes just as they've been done to you. Don't you dare try and paint us as the villains for demanding truth. I am through defending our actions to you and your twisted logic!" He opened his mouth to interrupt her but with a raise of her wand, he was silenced, "No! I am speaking. And I am not done. Your time of being morally ambiguous is over. I'm bloody exhausted of this fight, and I'm done defending your attitude to my friends. You can either learn to cooperate, learn which side is actually interested in your well being, or you can go back out on the street. War has made monsters of us all, but who will still be able to tame themselves once the war is finished? Will it be your precious friends? The ones who were eager to murder before the battlefield gave them a proper excuse? Enough Draco. Enough." She whipped her wand up again to release the silencing spell but he made no effort to speak. For several minutes, the silence wrapped itself around their necks, choking out any words from reaching the surface.

Finally, he cleared his throat, "Granger."

"I need your memories. I need to know what happened. I need to be able to go back to them and assure them that you aren't here to get us killed. If you can let down your walls then hold this in your fist –" she tossed a galleon at his feet, "and think of me. If you can't, then I'll throw your arse onto the pavement myself. You have a week." She slammed the door behind her and he found himself, somehow, feeling better than he had before she'd come in.

* * *

He tossed the coin between his fingers, watching the sparse London sunlight shine off of its edge. His food had magically appeared for the past two days, and he'd spoken to no one. His will was crumbling as he found himself fantasizing about the way her lips felt against his, he felt the coin heat up in his hand, so hot that he dropped it, nearly burned.

She apparated outside his door and came in without knocking, "This better not be some bloody trick." Her arms were crossed and her bottom lip was swollen from having worrying it all morning. He tried not to smirk at the obvious giveaway that she clearly cared more than she was letting on.

"No tricks, Granger." He sighed, unsure if it was the trauma of the past few months or the ache in his gut to see her that had finally broken his resolve. She'd probably try and cite her precious speech she'd thrown on him a few days ago, but if anything, all that did was give him hope that maybe…maybe she still cared for him. And maybe, he cared for her? He'd been too emotionally exhausted to consider the possibility before that fight, but it was as though her yelling had finally woken him up. He'd known for a while now that protecting her, making sure she was safe…that had become his biggest priority. But the swooping he felt in his stomach at the though of trailing his hands down her thigh…that was certainly new.

A flask appeared on his bedside table with a flick of her wand, "I just need the memories of what happened to your mother…that should be enough." She dragged her eyes up from the floor and onto his gaunt face, "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I'm not sure. But, I'm sorry."

"How many times have I told you Granger?" He reached out for the flask and took a deep breath to begin the considerable amount of wandless magic it would take to retrieve his memories, "I don't want your pity."

"Being sorry and pity are not the same."

"Sure does fucking feel like it sometimes." He mumbled. "I'm not your wounded puppy dog."

"I know that," she smiled slightly, "a puppy wouldn't infuriate me so much. And it would keep its mouth shut."

He pulled the stopper on the flask and released his whisps of memory into it before quickly covering them so they wouldn't spill out. He covered the length of the room in two great strides and deposited the bottle into her hand, standing merely inches from her face. He bent down and breathed onto her neck, "oh surely my mouth can be of some good use Granger?" Her breath hitched and she subconsciously rested a hand on his shoulder, bringing him closer.

"You think too highly of yourself, Malfoy."

He closed the last inch and brought his lips down onto her neck as she gasped. As quickly as he'd started though, he pulled his mouth away. "Tell me to stop." His hand trailed up her arm and went to stroke her back, pulling her body against his. "Tell me to stop, Granger."

"No." She barely whispered.

He took a slight step back, "How do you mean?"

Her eyes filled with lust as she looked up through her lashes at him, "No, I won't tell you to stop. Don't stop." He nearly growled in triumph at her words and took her face into his hands to crush his lips against hers. She whimpered against his mouth and he felt elation spread through his body at the sound. She raised her arms to loop around his neck as he lifted a hand to tangle into her hair.

In a moments notice he was backing her against the wall and she could feel his arousal against her thigh, which caused heat to settle into her abdomen. His hand reached for the bottle in her hands still behind his neck and as soon as it had begun, it was over.

He pulled his mouth from hers and closed her hand over the bottle before he brought his lips to her fingers. "When you see those…" his eyes gazed down at the swirling memories before capturing hers once more, "if you still want me to touch you like that, if you can still stomach my kiss, you'll know where to find me Granger." She opened her mouth to protest at his words but he brought one finger up to her swollen lips, "for once let me pity myself instead of you doing it for me." He chuckled and pecked her forehead. "I'm not a good man, Granger. Whatever patience and care you've had with me for the past few months, it isn't your job to fix me. And I'd never ask you to, so remember that when you watch those. I…I haven't deserved you, the kindness you've shown…and I'm trying to pick myself back up but if you see my memories and still decide…" his voice cracked, "still decide you want me…then please remember what I've done and who I am." She was forcefully reminded of Harry's words from only a few days previously. Remember. Remember.

His hand came up to gently hold her jaw and for a moment she was sure he'd kiss her again, but instead her sighed and pushed her towards the door. She heard him whisper, "please, forgive me" as the door shut behind her back. She wasn't sure if it was the memory of his touch on her skin or the words that caused her goose bumps to rise, but try as she might, she couldn't stop them. He asked her to remember…as though she could ever forget. Any of it.

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